Tears of a Mourning Bookworm
by InMyJazzShoes
Summary: When a horrible incident strikes the Granger household, Hermione wishes to only speak to Harry. Will he be able to help her through the emotional and physical pain that she's going through?
1. Guilt of a Good Friend

**Author's Note:** Hey everyone! Here I go again with another fic...my oh my, I'm juggling two stories at once! Nineteen years is on hold; despite the fact that I'm female, even I can multitask only so much. With this story, I actually followed those oh-so-famous instructions that language teachers have (and still do) repeatedly mentioned to us. I made a rough draft in my notebook, revised it, typed it, revised it some more, and a whole bunch of other stuff that I forget...Hopefully our language teachers were right! I have a pretty good idea as to how this story is going to turn out, but then again, my brain with a mind on its own (Haha! Get it? Never mind, bad joke...) could have other plans. Who knows. Oh, and by the way, I'm not going to tell you anything about the plot (oooh, I'm just so evil) - I do leave hints as to what year this story takes place, though, so yeah...

**Warning: PLEASE READ!** There is cutting mentioned within this story. IF you are offended by material like that then DO NOT READ this story. Please note that I do not promote cutting and/or attempted suicide. If anything, this story includes the repercussions of such an event and how much loved ones are affected when someone attempts things like that. I am just warning you now.

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Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

_Chapter One: Guilt of a Good Friend_

Overall, Christmas was going well at the Burrow. Then again, there were those moments when Mrs. Weasley didn't bother hiding the fact that she wanted Tonks as a daughter-in-law rather than Fleur, and when Ron would randomly begin mumbling about whether or not Hermione had really snogged Viktor Krum.

"I mean, can you really imagine her snogging anyone, for that matter?" Ron asked Harry one morning.

Harry sighed and said, "Can we stop talking about that?" It felt awkward discussing Hermione's 'love life', especially when she wasn't there to retaliate.

"Fair enough," Ron said, defeated. "Let's go downstairs. Mum must be cooking breakfast by now."

After Harry and Ron got dressed, they headed downstairs. The rest of the Weasleys and Fleur were already sitting down and eating their breakfast rather aggresively. Fred and George, in between bites, were putting their heads together and whispering to each other, most likely discussing the joke shop. Ginny was laughing at Arnold the Pygmy Puff, who was swaying lazily on her shoulder. Bill and Fleur were talking to each other, both of them looking more awake than anyone else in the room.

"Ron! Harry! I was about to wake you two up," Mrs. Weasley said, clapping her hands together.

Everyone else seemed too busy eating their food, or talking, to notice Harry and Ron take their usual seats at the table.

Suddenly, however, Ginny's head snapped up and she spotted the two teenagers. "Hey, Harry, could you pass the - ?" Ginny began. But before she got to tell Harry exactly what she wanted him to pass to her, a loud knock was heard from the front door.

"Stay here," Mr. Weasley said firmly as the others stood up from their seats. Harry was quite taken aback by this; normally, he would have simply approached the door, happily opened it, and welcomed whoever had bothered to wish to enter the Burrow. But now, with Voldemort gaining more and more power, everyone had to take extreme caution about everything - _especially_ everyone in the Burrow, considering the fact that Voldemort's prime target was within that very house.

Harry heard Mr. Weasley's voice, then another...it sounded familiar...a woman's voice... A few minutes later, Mr. Weasley returned to the kitchen, followed by Professor McGonagall. She looked different from when Harry had seen her before he set out for the winter break. She looked skiddish and upset about something. Her hands were shaking.

"Why's she here?" Ron whispered. He had abandoned his meal and was shifting in his chair to get a better view of the new visitor.

"Dunno," Harry replied.

McGonagall, by now, was whispering to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley across the kitchen where nobody at the table could hear exactly what they were saying.

"Fred, you prat! Are you kidding me?" Ginny scolded her older brother. Harry turned to look at Fred, who was extracting an Extendable Ear from his pocket. "Not this time. It looks serious."

"But that meeting at the Order of the Phoenix last year, that was serious - " Fred argued.

"Since when did _those_ meetings cause _those_ reactions?" Ginny interrupted hastily, pointing towards her parents.

She was absolutely right. Mrs. Weasley gaped at McGonagall; then she collapsed into her husband's arms, crying. Mr. Weasley had a cold expression on his face - the same expression when Lucius Malfoy had confronted him in Flourish and Blotts before Harry's second year at Hogwarts. Harry's heart was beating extremely fast at this point. What happened? Was it Lupin? Tonks? Many horrible thoughts were rushing in and out of Harry's mind, each one more dreadful than the last.

"Potter. Weasley. Follow me," McGonagall said sternly, indicating towards the Burrow's living room. Harry forced his shaking legs to obey him, despite how difficult this task was. Ron wasn't looking so good either - he suddenly looked very ill.

Harry and Ron sat down across from McGonagall, who avoided their anxious gazes. She inhaled deeply, adjusted her hat, and opened her mouth to speak.

"There's been...an accident," she said, attempting to hide the shakiness in her voice.

"W-What happened?" Harry asked nervously. Half of him wanted to know, but the other half didn't.

"The...the Granger household was attacked last night by Death Eaters," McGonagall said as she wiped a tear from her cheek.

"HERMIONE!" Harry exclaimed, immediately getting to his feet. His stomach dropped, his heart was ready to explode from beating too quickly, and dread spread throughout every vein in his body. No, this couldn't be happening...

"Miss Granger is alive," the professor said as Ron, too, got to his feet. Relief rushed over Harry, but only for a moment. If Hermione was okay, then... Harry closed his eyes, trying to make his mind think happier thoughts.

"However, her parents, being muggles, were not able to defend themselves," McGonagall said, wiping another tear.

"No..." Harry began. He could tell that Ron was thinking the same thing that he was from his friend's expression. Harry had remembered briefly seeing Hermione's parents before his second year.

"According to Miss Granger, and we haven't gotten much out of her, Mr. and Mrs. Granger ordered her to only worry about protecting herself, as most caring parents would do," McGonagall continued. "Unfortunately, her parents were murdered by...by suspected Death Eaters. Miss Granger had attack nearby enemies, but she was eventually outnumbered. By the time Aurors arrived on the scene, the Death Eaters had escaped, and she was severely injured."

"Is she - is she going to be okay?" Harry asked. He nervously ran his fingers through his messy, black hair.

"Physically, yes," the professor said shakily, and Harry knew exactly what she meant. Physically, of course, she'd be okay. But emotionally...she'd never be one hundred percent okay. Her parents were gone, and God knew what the Death Eaters had done to her... Anger boiled up inside of Harry. Why would anyone want to attack such a wonderful person? He wanted to run out of the Burrow and singlehandedly take on the entire population of those bloody Death eaters, and he'd be sure to serve justice to Hermione and her parents, Cedric, Sirius, Harry's parents, and the rest of Voldemort's victims by murdering every last one of them. Then another thought rushed to the front of his mind...

"It's because of me, isn't it?" he asked nobody in particular. "The Death Eaters, Voldemort - they're trying to get to me by hurting people I care about. They killed Sirius, they killed Hermione's parents and hurt her..."

"Don't blame yourself, Potter," McGonagall said, the normal sternness in her voice suddenly returning.

"But it's my fault!" Harry exclaimed. "If I hadn't befriended her, then they wouldn't have bothered - " but he stopped himself for two reasons: McGongall looked like she was going to transform him into a ferret if he blamed himself any more, just as (the fake) Moody had done to Malfoy in his fourth year, and also because he knew that Hermione was a target anyways, with her being Muggle-born.

Harry buried his face in his hands, which were shaking even more violently now. The guilt still didn't ease from him. Hermione was smart, she would figure out that it was all his fault, and she'd never want to speak with him again... Finally, he lifted his face from his hands, only to find McGonagall wiping continous tears with a tissue that she had clearly conjured out of thin air, and Ron, who was staring at his feet, pale-faced, without blinking.

The professor sniggled and said, "If you two would like to see her...I mean, I'm not guaranteeing that Miss Granger will wish to say anything..."

"We'll go," Harry said immediately. Ron nodded, still staring at his feet.

"Very well, then," McGonagall said, standing up. "Miss Granger is at St. Mungo's, obviously, due to her injures. We'll be traveling by Floo. I believe your fireplace is off of your kitchen, Weasley?"

Ron, who looked more ill than ever, moved his head shakily upward, then down. When they approached the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley was still sobbing, Mr. Weasley had the same expression displayed on his face, and everyone else at the table was now standing up anxiously and casting glances at Harry and Ron that said, _"What happened?"_

None of them replied to this, and McGonagall motioned for Harry to walk inside the fireplace first. He was so numb that he did not even feel the normal sensations of Flooing after he screamed, "St. Mungo's Hospital!" Several flashes of patients' rooms passed by before he stopped spinning. Harry hastily brushed the ashes off his robes and moved out of the way just in time for Ron to stumble out of the fireplace.

"Everyone at the table went mental when they heard you Floo to St. Mungo's," Ron told him as McGonagall gracefully walked out of the fireplace. It was the first time he had spoken since he had asked Harry why McGonagall had showed up at the Burrow. "Ginny was about to set a Bat Bogey Hex on me because I wouldn't tell her - wouldn't tell her what was going on...luckily I got out in time..."

As the three of them approached the front desk, reality began to sink in. So Hermione was an orphan now... Harry's hands were shaking even more violently than every by the time he, Ron, and McGonagall approached the fourth floor. Harry was not fully aware of everything going on around him. The Transfiguration professor had to pull him out of the way of a man sprinting right in his direction. The man had apparently escaped his hospital room, because he had branches for arms and was wearing the usual St. Mungo's patients' apparel. Normally, this would have been rather humorous, but given their current situation, not even Ron chuckled.

"Room 743...room 744...here it is: room 745," McGonagall said gloomily.

Almost instantly, a Healer sped out of Hermione's room. She had short, blonde hair, and her face was rather fox-like. "Hello, Minerva. Mr. Potter. And...?" she said, pointing to Ron.

"That's Ron Weasley, another friend of Miss Granger," McGonagall said.

"Right, then...well, you lot are the first to visit the poor dear."

McGonagall looked surprised. "The _first_? I had understood, though, that she had one extended family left - her aunt, I believe - in Liverpool. Usually, family visits first."

"Unfortunately, such Muggle records haven't been updated since Miss Granger arrived at Hogwarts for her first year. She has no living relatives at this point," the Healer said.

Harry wanted to jinx the Healer for bringing such horrible news. Hermione had only had her parents? Her aunt, who had been alive and well in Liverpool during their first year, had deceased at one point, and Hermione never bothered to mention this to Harry and Ron? Surely she could have confided in Harry, at least...he understood what it was like to have limited family members.

"Healer Kerrie, do you mind if we - ?" McGonagall began hesitantly.

"Actually, Minerva," the blonde Healer said, "Miss Granger only wishes to see Mr. Potter right now. And since she is of age, I couldn't deny her Visitor Requests..." Healer Kerrie's voice trailed off into muttered apologies.

Ron looked more hurt rather than angry at this point...but quite honestly, Harry almost didn't want to see Hermione at such a terrible time like this. But, if she had specifically request to only see him, then Harry was willing to take on his responsibility as being a good friend.

"Please go easy on her," Healer Kerrie whispered to him as he approached the door to Hermione's hospital room. "Every time we question about exactly what happened, she goes...well...mental, simply put."

Harry was only able to nod as he steadily opened the door before him, as though he didn't want to disturb even the smallest mouse that might've been existing within the room. He stepped inside and silently closed the door behind him. Harry took a deep breath and approached Hermione. But she didn't look like Hermione. Only the majority of her face was showing - the rest of her head was wrapped in bandages. Most of the rest of her body was bandaged, as well.

Harry cleared his throat, yet his voice was still shakier than ever.

"H-Hermione?"

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**Author's Note:** Thank you for reading! (that is, if you actually read this thing and didn't just skip to the bottom) Please tell me what you thought about it. I'm trying to improve my writing, so if you think I am, then please let me know! :)


	2. Loss of Comfort

**Author's Note:** Eh, this is a short chapter, but my brain was getting all confuzzled, so I felt that I needed to at least write _something_. First of all, thank you to the peeps who reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story! You guys rock! I hope that ya'll will like this chapter just as much :) I will most likely update this story weekly, or something like that. "Delusional First Years" is not on hold, it's just...taking a while to come up with a decent plot for the next chapter. I am working on it, though! I promise :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Unfortunately.

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Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

_Chapter Two: Loss of Comfort_

Harry watched Hermione as her brown eyes fluttered open. She looked at the ceiling for a few moments, as though trying to comprehend exactly where she was. Finally, her eyes met his, and she inhaled deeply.

"Harry?" she said, squinting to see if it was really him. Harry just nodded: he was in too much shock at that moment to really say anything. Hermione swallowed, closed her eyes, and said, "It's you."

"Y-Yeah, it's me," Harry said hesitantly. His vivid green eyes fell upon her brown ones, which were now slowly opening in another attempt to see Harry clearly. "Are you...are you okay?" But the moment the words escaped his mouth, he regretted saying them. Of course she wasn't okay. "I mean, um..." He tried to cover it up, but his voice trailed off and he hoped that Hermione would comprehend his intention.

Harry watched her as she closed her eyes again, inhaled deeply, and placed her head more comfortably on her pillow. After a few awkward moments, Hermione said, "I'm getting better." Her voice was extremely soft and somewhat shaky. She looked up and blinked several times. Harry's heart sank into a bottomless, pitch black pit of nothing. She was trying not to cry in front of him. Harry wanted to tell her that it was okay for her to cry, and that he understood how terrible it was to be an orphan. He took a sharp breath and said, "Hermione, it's okay to cry, you know. I understand," he said gently.

Hermione's eyes abandoned their glare at the ceiling and fell upon Harry. Without even thinking about it, Harry reached out and held her hand. His hand was fairly larger than hers, which refused to return the pressure. After about a minute or two of gazing into each other's eyes, Hermione shook her head. "I can't. It makes me feel weak," she admitted.

As if on cue, his heart sank even lower. "It's me, Hermione. You can cry in front of me," Harry said reassuringly as his thumb absentmindedly stroked the top of her hand.

Suddenly, the door bursted open. "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley _insists_ on meeting you," Healer Kerrie said as she stumbled through the doorway, adjusting her hat. Her face was red with frustration.

"Hermione!" Ron's voice bellowed out from the hallway.

Hermione removed her hand from Harry's and smacked it against her already injured forehead. She muttered something under her breath and said quietly, "Only for five minutes." The Healer nodded obidiently and turned on her heels to allow Ron inside.

"Are you alright? Is everything okay? I'm going to murder whoever did this to you!" Ron exclaimed as he rushed in, disreguarding the fact that she might've wanted a peaceful, calm atmosphere.

"Ron, please...shut up," she muttered softly. Hermione was trying her best to make her point very clear, but given her terrible state, Ron just smiled and continued interogating her.

"Ron! You heard her!" Harry snapped automatically. He hadn't even been aware of what he was saying...however, he was quite angry at Ron.

Harry's best friend's ears got very red and he shut his mouth immediately. "Fair enough. I knew I wasn't wanted here," he said roughly.

Hermione closed her eyes tightly, while Harry clenched his jaw. How could Ron just walk in and act like nothing horrible happened? As if Hermione's parents didn't die, and she was in full health? Ron always had a protectice instinct towards Hermione, but now, he seemed more anxious to just blab on rather than sit by her side and try to comfort her. Despite his previous comment, he continued talking to Hermione.

"How long are you going to stay here?" Ron asked curiously.

Hermione shrugged reluctantly and looked off to the side. She grabbed a piece of her bushy hair and twisted it around her finger (which sported several deep cuts), as though trying to distract herself from the unfortunate reality of the entire situation.

Finally, after five minutes (and Healer Kerrie seemed to be timing it exactly), Ron was ordered out of the room by the aggrivated Healer.

"Hermione?" Harry said uncertainly as Hermione buried her face in her heavily bandaged hands. "Hermione, are you okay?"

She shook her head and didn't lift her face from her hands. Harry's heart sank into the bottomless pit even further. He didn't know what to do at this point. He had never been good with comforting people...and it was supposed to be a little better for him to comfort Hermione, since she was his best friend. But alas, Harry was at for loss of words and actions.

And that's when it happened: Tears spilled out from Hermione's hands uncontrolably. She sniffled, trying to stop crying. Harry looked around the room, looking for a tissue, or something that would offer comfort. Luckily, there was a box of tissues right by the door...Harry quickly ran across the room to gather it, then returned to the side of Hermione's hospital bed.

"Here...I have tissues..." he said softly, holding out a tissue. Hermione slowly removed her hands from her face and then grabbed a tissue immediately, obviously attempting to cover up her appearance as she was crying. "Hermione, it's okay...it's okay to cry in front of me. And I won't think that you're weak," he added. "I understand what you're going through."

Realization seemed to hit Hermione. She discarded the tissue and lifted her eyes up to Harry. Then, without needing words, she nodded.

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**Author's Note:** Just seemed like a good part to stop. I don't know. Please review:) 


	3. Orders of Lord Voldemort

**Author's Note:** Thank you to people who reviewed. It made me feel so guilty about not getting this up quickly -- yeah, thanks for the guilt, guys :P But seriously, I am sorry for not updating as quickly as expected. I had personal stuff that had to be dealt with, and I'll leave it at that. Against my usual-ness, I brought that 'before'-scenes-in-a-Midol-commercial-Hermione near the end (which is really bad, and I'm not just saying that for attention or whatever, it really is bad.) I kinda left off on a random lovey dovey cliffhanger, but I'm random, so whatever.

**DisclaimerforstupidretartedpeoplewhodontunderstandthatIdontownHarryPotter:** I don't own Harry Potter.

**Extra Note:** Ooh, my first "Extra Note", for people like me who are too lazy to go back to the original Author's Note. Anyways, I kinda didn't edit this. Shows my effort, I know, right? But I was just eager to get this updated once I finished writing this.

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Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

_Chapter Three: Orders of Lord Voldemort_

It had been two hours since Harry had first arrived at the hospital, and Hermione had finally fallen asleep. Her calmness was rather strange now, since before the holidays, before this tragedy, she was almost always in a bad mood, snapping at her two best friends without warning. Hermione's stomache, enclosed in bandages, rose and fell effortlessly with each deep breath she took. She needed this, Harry thought; she needed rest, to escape from the terrible reality that had occured. And for some unknown reason, Harry couldn't take his eyes off her. There was something about her aura, perhaps, that drew his magnificent green eyes to her like one of Aunt Petunia's ugly apple magnets ("An apple a day keeps the doctor away!") against the Dursley's surgically-clean refridgerator.

Suddenly, Healer Kerrie bursted through the hospital doors, not really knowing or caring about Hermione's current state. "Hello, I'm -- " she began, but Harry immediately stood up and put his index finger to his lips, indicating silence. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said in a low whisper. "I didn't know that Miss Granger was asleep. But without Dreamless Potion...it's beyond me as to why she fell asleep this quickly..." The Healer got lost in her own thoughts as she carefully examined Hermione's bandages, making sure that they were still intact. "I suppose I should bring the others inside? They're so worried."

"How many 'others'?" Harry asked with clear curiousity and a bit of excitement to see them all again, and worry with them. He knew that the Ginny, Fred, George, and some of Order would be nervous for Hermione.

"A red-haired bunch, this attitude-ish veela lady, a scruffy middle-aged man, and some woman with short pink hair," Healer Kerrie said absently as she flattened out the bedsheets. Harry fought a bit of laughter at the way she described the Weasleys, Fleur, Lupin, and Tonks. "I know that Miss Granger didn't really want to see anyone else, but they'd like to see her. I'll bring them in then!" she said hastily, rushing towards the door.

Immediately, the group that the Healer had previously described darted into the room as fast as a Golden Snitch. They all opened their mouths to say words of comfort, but using the same indication that he showed to the Healer before, Harry warned them to whisper. Mrs. Weasley was the quickest to the edge of Hermione's hospital bed. Tears ran down her cheeks and Mr. Weasley sat beside his wife, holding her in his embrace and casting nervous glances at Hermione here and there. Ron rushed to Harry's side and asked, "D'you think that she's gonna be alright?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. She was crying before, you know, and at first she didn't want me to see."

"Weird. Usually, she has no problems showing us her tears," Ron said. Harry threw him a look and took to looking at the others, who were looking back at him as well as Hermione.

Even Fred and George looked gloomy, which was something that Harry had never seen from them before. Tonks was silently sobbing, and Lupin wrapped his arms around her. Ginny was slowly making her way to Harry, he could tell, but every time he looked her way, she stopped abruptly.

_Is she alright?_ Lupin mouthed to Harry, pointing at Hermione.

Again, Harry hopelessly shrugged his shoulders. And he was being honest...he really didn't know if she was going to be alright. Now that Harry thought about it, Hermione had always been afraid of death: not just her own death, but death of the innocent. He had noticed how she cringed whenever he mentioned his parents' deaths, and the rare occasions when he put his guard down and talked about Sirius's death, and perhaps those times last year when he described Cedric's death in the graveyard.

Harry's eyes, again, became glued to Hermione, and it was only until Ginny whispered to him that he was able to look away. "She looks terrible."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, sighing.

"Why do you think she didn't want to see us?" Ginny asked curiously. "I mean, she could've at least let Ron see her. He's as friendly with Hermione as you are to her."

Harry bit back the true answer: she didn't think that anyone else could understand. "Hermione didn't say why," he lied.

Ginny examined his expression, looking for evidence that he was lying. Her brown eyes pierced his skin. "Right," she said, looking back at Hermione's content face.

Moments later, Hermione began stirring in her sleep. Everyone, who was whispering to someone else, paused and didn't dare draw a breath. But their attempts to keep her asleep failed; Hermione's chocolate-brown eyes fluttered open, and then widened at once.

"W-What are you all d-doing here?" she said as loudly as her voice could project. "I thought -- I thought I asked -- Harry, Harry, they're all here, why are they here? -- Healer Kerrie! -- I don't want -- " Her bottom lip trembled violently, and Harry knew that she was fighting back tears.

As if on cue, Healer Kerrie strolled into the room. "Did someone -- Oh my! Out, out! Everyone out!" she said quickly, shoving the protesting visitors out of the hospital room. "Oh dear -- the Head Healer will kill me if I went against Visitor Requests -- Oh God...Yes, Mr. Potter, you can stay."

"Hermione!" Ron screamed as the door shut.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Granger, for the commotion -- " Healer Kerrie began.

"I want him out, too!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing at Harry. "He didn't -- he didn't tell them to get out!"

"Hermione, I -- " Harry began, utterly shocked. "They wanted to see you. They wanted to make sure that you're alright."

"I'm fine," Hermione whispered.

"No, you're not."

"I told you, I'm fine! Get out, Harry!"

Harry, still in shock, looked at the Healer for help. She, obviously not daring to break Visitor Requests again, shoved him out of the hospital room as well.

"What the hell?" Harry's first comment followed many other hushed swear words as he joined Ron and Ginny opposite of the hospital room's door.

"You've decided to join us?" Ron said nastily.

"I didn't _decide_ to join you! Hermione kicked me out because I didn't force you lot out of the room."

"At least you wanted you in the hospital room -- " Ron began.

"Ron, shut up," Ginny snapped. "Nobody wants to hear you complain."

Ron opened his mouth, but Mrs. Weasley shot him a look, and he fell silent.

"I hope she's gonna be alright," Ginny whispered to Harry. "I feel so bad for her, losing everything..."

Harry gulped. _Everything._ Her house was destroyed, obviously, once the Death Eaters murdered Mr. and Mrs. Granger...

_"They're dead, my Lord," a tall hooded man said in a shaky voice as he bowed down to Lord Voldemort. "The Muggles are dead."_

_"And the Mudblood girl? Her too?" Voldemort hissed._

_A man, shorter than the taller one, stood to the right, hooded as well. "Well, she managed to fight us off. The house was collapsing, we had to get out -- "_

_"I wouldn't have cried over your deaths! It was your priority to kill her, you useless scum! Potter needs to know that I am a bigger threat than he ever imagined!" Voldemort exclaimed. He snapped his fingers, and Nagini was at his feet, slithering on the cold, wooden floor._

_The two men froze for a moment, then the taller one said, "My Lord, we can go after G-Ginny Weasley. Draco Malfoy told me that he has suspected t-that Potter is quite fond of her."_

_"Lies!"_

"No, no, my Lord, I wouldn't lie!" the man said, getting to his knees.

_"Potter fancies the Mudblood, I saw her last year, in the Ministry, you -- you idiots! And I shall not spill pure blood if I can prevent it."_

_"Yes, of course," the man whispered._

Harry lay there, on the corridor floor, panting and gasping for breath. He saw Healer Kerrie's face the moment he opened his eyes.

"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?" she asked, helping him getting to his feet. The others were looking at him, worried. Ron raised his eyebrows, looking the most worried of them all.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay," Harry said.

"Harry, you collapsed onto the floor, you're not -- " Ginny began.

"I'm okay!" he said, brushing invisible debri off his shirt.

After a bit of arguing, the Weasleys, Fleur, Lupin, and Tonks left him alone about the incident that had just occured. Ron annoyingly questioned him, asking what he saw, but Harry didn't want to talk about it. His scar began seering with pain, Voldemort was angry, but he decided against expressing his pain. He had adapted to it by now after all these years.

"Ron, I really don't want to talk about it!" Harry snapped. "Will you just -- "

"It was about Hermione's parent's deaths, wasn't it?" Ron asked.

Harry sighed. Against his instincts, he told Ron about what he had seen, except for the part where Malfoy suspected Harry liking Ginny (Ron really didn't need to know about _that_).

"Bloody hell," Ron said. "Voldemort ordered the whole thing?"

"He always orders sick, cruel stuff like that," Harry muttered furiously, clutching his fist into a ball. He glanced at Hermione's hospital room door, and as he did so, his heart ached to rush into that room and gather Hermione into his arms. And for some strange reason, against Healer Kerrie's and Hermione's requests, Harry did just that.

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**Author's Note:** Weird 'lovely dovey cliffhanger', right? Oh, I almost forgot -- "Delusional First Years" is still under a writer's block. I need ideas, please. Anyways, pretty please review this! I'd appreciate it. Peace out :)


	4. Addition of Fury

**Author's Note:** This is a rather bad chapter, because I wrote the first part one night, then the second part the other night, so the mood is divided in half, literally. Sadness, then anger-ness at the end. No, don't go looking at the end now! Anyways, thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story. I really appreciate it :D

**Disclaimerrrrrrrrrr:** I don't own Harry Potter, but I made two wicked awesome characters myself: Healer Kerrie and a new mystery character. Ooooh.

**Extra Note:** Please ignore the chapter's title. It's really bad and random, lol.

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Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

_Chapter Four: Addition of Fury_

"Harry, I -- " Hermione began, "I'm really sorry for yelling at you like that b-before. I shouldn't have d-done that."

"It's fine," Harry whispered. "I understand."

Against what Healer Kerrie and Hermione told him to do, he had ran into the hospital room and sat Hermione on his lap (and she didn't even protest whatsoever). She was too weak to fully support herself, so she was leaning against him, her body facing his left. Tears were falling here and there, and Harry wiped each and every one of them away.

"What do you think is going to happen when we get back at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked gently. She blinked quickly.

Harry paused, thinking. "I think that a lot of Gryffindors will be supportive."

"I hope so," she replied. "But the Slytherins, they'll just -- "

"Shh," Harry said quickly. "I'll kick their arses if they bother you."

For the first time that day, Hermione laughed. "Thanks, Harry."

It was nice to see her smile again, to laugh, because Harry highly doubted that he would see much of this behavior from Hermione for a long time. And something clenched at his heart, that made him want to know what exactly happened, the life-changing moment that permanently disturbed Hermione.

At, again a bad time, Healer Kerrie walked into the hospital room, carrying a long piece of paper. "Miss Granger, you need -- Mr. Potter! What are you -- ?"

"It's okay, Healer Kerrie," Hermione said.

The Healer nodded hesitantly and glanced at Hermione, who was sitting on Harry's lap. "This isn't what you think it is," Harry said plainly. "I was trying to comfort her. Again."

"Well, then...Right..." she said, looking back at the paper in her hands. "I'm sorry, but the Ministry has a court order for your memory."

"My what?!" Hermione exclaimed, loudly than she had ever spoken. She sat straight up for a moment, but due to her weakness, she collapsed again on Harry, whose green eyes widened in bewilderment.

"They wish to know of the Death Eaters who were involved," the Healer said, pushing back her blond hair. "And the exact cause of your parents' deaths."

"My -- " Hermione began. Her chin trembled, and tears began cascading down her cheeks. It was certainly the first time that the truth had reached her ears, and any denial that she had had (which Harry suspected, was a lot) was gone. "Gone."

"Hermione..." Harry said smoothly, holding her hand.

She shook her head. "Fine, they can take whatever they want! Let get hold of my memories! They'll regret it! And they'll be sorry that they never caught those bloody bastards, those Death Eaters that killed my mum and dad!" Hermione was crying harder than ever, and Harry's attempts to calm her down weren't working.

"I'm sorry," Healer Kerrie said. "A Ministry official will be here shortly, to retrieve your memory, and witness it through a Pensieve. It won't get rid of your possession of that memory."

Hermione, still crying, reluctantly nodded as the Healer strolled out of the room. Harry closed his eyes; he didn't want Hermione to relive what she had been through. "Don't worry," he whispered. "You're strong. You can handle this."

Although the moment he spoke, he somehow regretted saying those words. He thought that Hermione was going to yell at him again on how she's supposed to be strong --

"Leo Cortell, Ministry of Magic," a sticatto voice interupted Harry's thoughts.

The owner of the voice, apparently Leo Cortell, strolled into the room gracefully, holding a briefcase in one hand, fixing his ruffled brown hair with another. He was rather short and skinny, and his boyish face gave the impression that he was in his mid-twenties. "As Precilla Kerrie has told you, the Ministry will need to review your memory to see the full account of what has happened. We recommend you _not_ to tamper with your own memory, but since you, Miss Granger, are only seventeen, I doubt that you would be able to perform such -- "

"Hermione's a brilliant witch," Harry snapped. "If she wanted to tamper with her memory, she'd be able to."

Cortell had apparently not noticed Harry, because he turned to face him with an expression of shock. His gray eyes widened at the sight of Harry's scar. At the corner of Harry's eye, he noticed Hermione beaming at him.

"Harry Potter," Leo Cortell said enthusiastically. "My, what a pleasure to meet you...you are a friend of Miss Granger, I assume?"

Harry nodded.

"Well then, I'm sure that you'd be ever so kind to...er...escort yourself out of the room while I question your friend?"

Harry wasn't so eager to nod that time, but he eventually did so, leaving Hermione behind.

"What did you do _now_?" Harry heard Ron ask from the left side of the hallway.

"Nothing," Harry replied. "They're just doing a memory review."

"That scrawny little git that just walked in?" Fred asked.

"Yup, that was him. Leo Cortell. Didn't say what division of the Ministry he was from, though."

"I hope she's alright," Ginny muttered.

Harry raised his eyebrows quizically and walked over to her. "Would you care to expand your vocabulary a bit?"

"What? Oh, I -- I mean, it's just all I can think about, you know? I know you're really good friends with her, it must be so hard for you..."

Ron coughed loudly.

"Um," Harry said to Ginny, feeling a little awkward. "Yeah, of course it's hard for me. And Ron."

Ron gave him an appreciative nod.

"And whoever else Hermione is good friends with, besides you and Luna...you know," Harry added. "I'm not in the girls' dormitories, but I'd imagine that she had gotten along with the other girls -- "

"Oh," Ginny said in a near whisper, looking suddenly gloomier than ever. "No, she doesn't have any other friends. The other girls in Gryffindor kind of make fun of her, actually. I thought she told you?"

Harry clenched his jaw, fury rising within him.

"Nope. She didn't tell me."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Pretty please review, and thanks for reading! :)


	5. Introduction of a Comforter

**Author's Note:** As a matter of fact, I'm a bit confident about this chapter. We're finally moving away from the hospital, so things should get a bit interesting. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story. You guys are awesomely fantastic! :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, but I own Healer Kerrie and a new character, Eliza Markovitch. Ooooh. Ahhhh.

* * *

Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

_Chapter Five: Introduction of a Comforter_

It was the last day of winter break, and despite Hermione's condition, she had been desperate to return to Hogwarts. Something about "crossing bridges".

"Hermione, you can't go back to Hogwarts _now_," Harry argued.

She folded her arms. "I'm of age, Harry. I can back to Hogwarts if I want to."

Harry could see the sadness behind her confident expression. They were in her hospital room, and had been debating for ten minutes. He was afraid about how the other students at Hogwarts would react to what had happened to Hermione.

"It's because Crookshanks survived, isn't it?" Harry asked, pointing to Hermione's cat. Kingsley Shacklebot had found Crookshanks under the rubble of what used to be the Granger's home just the day before.

"No," Hermione snapped. Harry wondered if Hermione had gotten good at covering her feelings by witnessing Ron and Lavender snogging several times. "But," she continued, "at least someone brilliant survived this." She gingerly pet her cat, but didn't smile.

"Hermione," Harry said gently, taking a step towards her. "_You_ survived this. That's _two_ brilliant someones."

Hermione looked up at him and gave him a weird look that he hadn't seen before. Maybe she was trying to smile? After all, she hadn't smiled for five days ever since Leo Cortell had forced her to review the most terrifying memory that she had ever expierenced in her entire life. "That's sweet, Harry," Hermione said.

For a moment, Harry thought that she was joking, but her expression was now serious. He felt heat rising up his neck and to his cheeks.

The door swung open, and low and behold, there was Healer Kerrie. She was holding a clipboard, and her expression displayed clear curiousity. "Miss Granger," she said, "are you returning to Hogwarts tomorrow, along with your other classmates? Or do you wish to stay here for the next week or so to recover?"

Hermione looked at Harry, then back at the Healer. "I'm returning to Hogwarts," she said defiantly.

Healer Kerrie's eyebrows raised, but she didn't comment. "In that case, you're being assigned to a Comforter. It's mandatory, whether you're of age or not, considering your condition."

"What's a Comforter?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. "They're people who help others who are going through 'difficult times'. Like therapists. You haven't been assigned one," she added after looking at Harry's facial expression, "because Comforters are Ministry positions. The Ministry of Magic doesn't want to hear about Voldemort."

Healer Kerrie shuddered at the mention of Voldemort. "Er...anyways," she said, shaking her head quickly. "Your Comforter should be here any min -- "

"Hello," a harsh-sounding voice echoed throughout the hospital room. A woman with short, black hair and in all deep purple robes strolled gracefully into the room, looking at everything around her with an accusatory gaze. "I'm Eliza Markovitch, the Comforter. You are Miss Granger?" She looked right at Hermione, who nervously nodded. Then Eliza glanced over at Harry. "Harry Potter. Pleasure to meet you." Something told Harry that she didn't mean it.

"Pleasure to meet you, too," Harry said awkwardly.

"I'll be at Hogwarts to meet with Miss Granger every other week day," Eliza said. She placed her hands on her hips.

Harry gulped. He didn't want this woman to help Hermione, because she probably wouldn't be _able_ to help her. Hermione didn't seem to fond of the situation either, because she was giving him a look that screamed 'help me'.

"You should probably go now," Harry told Eliza Markovitch before he knew what he was saying.

"Excuse me?"

He clenched his hands into fists and locked his jaw for a moment in a sad attempt to keep himself from responding. "You told Hermione what you needed to tell her, so you can go now."

"Fair enough," Eliza said harshly, wrinkling her nose. And with that, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the room.

"Harry," Hermione said with a surprised tone, "what was that for?"

"Something's not right about her."

"You don't need to protect me all the time. I know that you mean well, but you're going to get in trouble -- "

"Don't waste your breath," Harry said, looking away from the hospital room door and then straight at Hermione. "You know that I'll always protect you, no matter what."

--

Harry had never seen Hermione out of her hospital bed, except for that one time when he had set her on his lap. But he didn't want to recall it, because he was rather embarassed about that action. Now, he noticed, she had trouble walking. Most of her bandages were now gone, their purpose served. Hermione was limping and if she hadn't been supported by Harry, she probably would have fallen down after taking a few steps.

"You'll need a wheelchair. I've gotten one for you," Healer Kerrie said. "And yes," she added, "even wizards have those contraptions. They're just a bit different." She took out her wand and waved it at a closet door in the corridor, and out came a wheelchair, moving towards Hermione. It parked behind her and she sat down.

"I look like an idiot," she said stiffly.

"No, you don't," Harry said in a firm tone. "People will understand why you need it."

"Now, Miss Granger," Healer Kerrie announced, "you don't need to push the wheels. I've Charmed this wheelchair to respond to your thoughts and needs, but it's not a miracle worker. Simply think about which direction you wanted to go, as if you were walking. Don't worry, dear, as long as you take your medicine as instructed, you'll only need this for a week at the most. And Kingsley Shacklebot was able to recover your Hogwarts trunk from your house. Thank goodness you used an Indestructable Charm on it."

Hermione beamed at the Healer, then at Harry. "There was loads of important stuff in there," she told him. "Even pictures of mum and dad." Her smile was now a sad one, and Harry's mind desperately searched for a subject to change to. But before he could say anything, Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and Ginny were marching down the corridor towards them.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, rushing to her side. He kneeled down beside her, opposite of Harry. "You're completely mental to return to Hogwarts. But anyways, how are you? Are you better?"

Hermione nodded and smiled at him. "I really _do_ look like an idiot, though."

"Of course not," Ginny interupted. "It's understandable."

"That's what I said," Harry agreed. Ginny smiled at him, looking almost hopeful for some reason, but he switched his attention back to Hermione and Ron.

"Hermione, dear," Mrs. Weasley said happily, motioning for Ginny to move over to that she could get closer to Hermione, "I've got everything that you need. Now if you get nervous and decide to change your mind about going back to Hogwarts while you're there, just send me a letter and I'll be there faster than a Firebolt could get to you. And if there is anything else that you need, just let me know, I'll -- "

"Mum," Ron said, "she knows. She's smart."

Mrs. Weasley smiled weakly. "Yes, yes, of course. I was just making sure. Now, then, we best be on our way, then? Harry, do you have your school trunk?"

Harry reached down and held up his trunk, as well as Hedwig's cage. "Yup."

"Right then. Well, let's go. And Hermione, are you sure -- ?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley."

--

"It's Hermione Granger!"

"I read about what happened to her in the _Prophet_. Terrible, really..."

"Why is she in a wheelchair, though?"

The whispers that Harry had dreaded surrouded him, Hermione, and the three Weasleys the moment they set foot in King's Cross.

"Ignore them," Harry whispered in Hermione's ear.

She nodded. "I already am."

"Good."

The whispers got louder and more frequent, but they continued their way straight towards the Hogwarts Express.

"I'll take that," a man, sporting the Hogwarts Express worker's uniform, pointed towards Hermione's wheelchair. "Sorry, but you can't go through the door with that, nor can you go down the corridors. It's too wide."

They decided not to bother with arguing with the man. Hermione reluctantly attempted to stand up, supported by both Harry and Ron. "You can get your wheelchair back once we've reached our destination," the man told them as Harry and Ron helped Hermione up the stairs onto the train, then down a corridor into an empty compartment.

"You guys forgot your luggage," Ginny said as she open the compartment door, pulling four trunks.

"How did you -- ?"

"Dean helped me," she said. Normally, Harry would have witnessed her giggle about mentioning her boyfriend, but she simply shrugged. Dean Thomas poked out from behind Ginny. He helped Harry and Ron store the school trunks on the shelves above them. "See you later," Ginny muttered, following Dean to another compartment.

"Do you need anything?" Harry asked as he sat down next to Hermione, who had chosen to sit right next to the window so that only one person could sit right next to her. Ron had obviously wanted to sit next to her, but he didn't say anything as he plopped down opposite of them.

"I'm fine," Hermione said weakly, staring out the window.

Harry knew better than anyone that she was lying right through her teeth.

"You're not fine," he said in a low whisper so that only she could hear.

"I am," she said at the same volume. "I knew what was going to happen when I made the decision to return to Hogwarts with you guys, and I know that it's not going to get any better. But it would have attracted more attention if I showed up later."

Harry realized that she was right. Either way, it wasn't going to be easier. And as if on cue, Draco Malfoy strolled into the compartment.

"Looks like the Mudblood survived, eh?"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yes, I know, I stole the name and purpose of "Comforter" from Stephenie Meyer's _The Host_, but she kinda stole the word "Seeker" (not the purpose, though), so it all sort of evens out, you know? Or maybe not. Oh, about "Delusional First Years: Mission HHr", it's completed. I might add a sequel, but I have a new idea for another humor story. The title will (most likely) be: "I Accidently Kissed Harry Potter" Haha. You love it already, and you know it. So anyways, pretty please review! I reply to all reviews personally :D


	6. Unfairness of Truth

**Author's Note: **Thank you very much to the fantastically awesome people who reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story! There were so many expectations with this chapter, though, and I hope that I'm able to satisfy you all :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

_Chapter Six: Unfairness of Truth_

"Aww, poor Mudblood Granger..." Malfoy said in a mockish tone.

Harry immediately got to his feet and pulled out his wand, pointing it right at Malfoy's cold heart. "Don't say another word, Malfoy."

"Mum -- ", but before Malfoy could continue with " -- and dad are dead", he was thrown off his feet and against the compartment door.

"I told you not to say another word," Harry said through his clenched teeth. He reached down to pick up his wand, since he was so furious at Malfoy in that moment that he had simply him up and threw him across the compartment. Harry stepped closed to Malfoy. "Go away right now, or so help me, God, I will show the entire population of Hogwarts your Dark Mark."

Malfoy laughed. "You wouldn't."

Harry didn't laugh and kept his expression firm. "I would."

"Harry, you don't need to -- " Hermione began in a weak voice.

"Hermione, stay out of this," he ordered, keeping his eyes fixed upon Malfoy's thin face.

"_Stay out of this?_ I'm the reason you threw him against the bloody compartment door -- "

"And that's a bad thing? Don't try to protect Draco!" Harry said, raising his voice.

"I'm would _never_ protect Draco over you!"

"Then stop acting like you are!" Harry shouted louder than was necessary.

He immediately regretted changing the tone of his voice, though, because he heard stiff sobs from behind him. Struggling, he continued to look at Malfoy. "Don't you dare say anything."

Harry saw Malfoy glancing at Hermione and smiling. "Look, Potter, she's crying, you made her cry -- "

"I SAID, DON'T YOU DARE SAY ANYTHING!" Harry yelled. He automatically grabbed the collar of Malfoy's shirt and pushed him harder into the compartment door.

Malfoy actually looked scared now. Harry noticed the sudden paleness in his thin face, the darkness under his eyes, and the widening of his eyes as well.

Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight of Malfoy's vunerability as he said, "If you ever say another word about Hermione, or even _to_ her, I will not hesitate to end your sad excuse for a life right now, you hear me?"

Malfoy nervously nodded. Harry punched him hard in the face.

"_Harry!_" Hermione's voice, still disguised in sobs, yelled out. "You c-could get a-a_ detention _f-for that, you k-know!"

Harry turned around to look at Hermione. Ron was sitting next to her, but based on Hermione's actions, it was as if he wasn't even there. She was glaring up at him with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Harry couldn't help but feel rather guilty. After all, he _did_ yell at her, which was not acceptable under her condition. Leaving behind an unconcious Draco, Harry rushed over to her and knealed down.

"I'm so sorry..." he muttered, closing his eyes. He absently held her hand and, with a tight pain in his stomach, didn't feel her return to the pressure.

Suddenly, the compartment door opened.

"Potter, I heard shouting and -- _what is going on here_?"

Professor McGonagall glanced down at Draco, then walked over him and into the compartment. Her eyes scanned the room and then found Hermione crying, and the fact that she was almost accusing the trio of causing Draco to be in his unconcious state faded away. She strolled over to Hermione and asked, "Miss Granger, are you okay? What happened?"

"I kind of got carried away," Harry said quietly, answering Professor McGonagall's second question.

Hermione coughed and looked up at the professor. "It's n-not really H-Harry fault, t-though!" she said. Harry's eyes widened; she was defending him. "H-He was just protecting m-me! Draco was b-being awfully horrid, a-and Harry got m-mad, but...but you h-have to understand! Harry just w-wanted me to be s-safe. H-He was protecting m-me." She continued sobbing into the sleeves of her robes.

The professor casted a curious glance at Harry, with raised eyebrows and all, and said, "Weasley, stay with Miss Granger. I'd like to have a word with Potter."

Harry gulped as Professor McGonagall silently gestured him to follow her. Many students, from their compartments, stood up to witness him following her, but Harry was used to this behavior from his classmates and ignored it. It took about two minutes to arrive at Professor McGonagall's compartment.

"Sit," she ordered.

Harry obeyed. She sat across from him and folded her legs.

"Is this true? You attacked Mr. Malfoy in order to protect Miss Granger?"

Harry nervously nodded. "Yes, Professor. He called her a Mudblood."

"That's it?"

"No, no, Professor. Not at all. He was _mocking_ her," Harry accounted. He struggled to hold back anger.

"What exactly did he say?"

Harry hated being asked questions like this, but he didn't dare refuse his teacher. "Well, actually..." Harry said nervously, "he didn't say much. Malfoy began sentences, but he never finished because I -- I kind of threw him against the compartment door." He finished the last part quickly.

Professor McGonagall's eyebrows raised even more. "I see. Well, Potter, you could get week's worth of detentions for doing what you just did, and Mr. Malfoy would only get one."

Harry looked down at his feet. Malfoy deserved a lifetime's worth of detentions, but the ferret was only going to get one. And Harry was going to be stuck with a week full of detentions.

"But," the Professor said, raising Harry's hopes, "I've known you long enough to know that you would only attack another student to protect a good friend. Especially Miss Granger. I will not issue any detentions.

He couldn't help but beam at his professor. "Thank you, Professor," he said happily. "Thank you so much, I -- "

"Now," Professor McGonagall said, clearing her throat and breaking off Harry's sentence, "it's important for you to know that Miss Granger will need your aid now more than ever."

Harry nodded. Many people had been giving him this lecture, as though they weren't expecting him to help Hermione.

"...you are the only good friend that she has who will understand exactly what she's going through. It's bad enough that she had to _relive_ the most terrifying memory of her life."

"Neville understands her, too," Harry said quietly and modestly.

"Well, I suppose that he would, but...you see...the attack at the Granger's house was more violent, and the Death Eaters used differenttorturing methods."

"They -- wait, _what_?"

"Healer Kerrie didn't tell you?" Professor McGonagall asked. Her eyebrows were now raised to a dangerous height. "I thought that I instructed her to notify you of the depth of Miss Granger's physical and emotional injuries..."

"No, the Healer didn't tell me at all," Harry said with curiousity written all over his voice.

The Professor shook her head. "I really didn't want to be the one to tell you."

Panic was rising within Harry. "What happened?"

"I -- I can't, I'm sorry, Potter."

"Professor, please tell me. I don't want to have to ask Hermione -- "

"Fine, fine," she said impatiently, rubbing her eyes. "The Death Eaters...they...they tortured Miss Granger first, and made her parents...made her parents watch. Miss Granger was strong, though. Survived that session easily."

"W-Were they trying to get certainly information from Hermione?" Harry asked. His voice was very shaky, and he almost didn't want to hear the rest of what Professor McGonagall had to say. But it was necessary for him to know, to understand thoroughly what had happened to Hermione...his best friend...

"Well, their arguement is that they were trying to get Miss Granger to convince the Order to shut down the protective enchantments, so that they could go after you."

Harry swallowed the tense air and wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. "But surely the Order wouldn't have actually shut down the enchantments -- "

"Miss Granger was under quite a bit of pressure at the point, and she didn't think things through. It was a real threat. Anyways," Professor McGonagall continued with a regretful tone, "then the Death Eaters took...they took a different approach...T-They tortured Mr. and Mrs. Granger for about two hours...and they made...they...they made Miss Granger watch."

"NO!" Harry screamed at the top of his lungs, jumping to his feet.

"I'm sorry, Potter, I didn't want to tell you, but you asked -- and -- and maybe you'll understand more of what -- "

The world seemed to pause right there. _No._ Harry couldn't even imagine what it was like to be forced to witness his own parents being tortured. _No_. He bolted out of Professor McGonagall's compartment, ignoring her protests, and sprinting down the corridor, ignoring everyone that stared at him, ignoring the world, ignoring everything but Hermione. _No_. Harry found their compartment, where Malfoy's unconcious body was not there, but he must've walked away because only Ron and Hermione were in there. _No._

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, rushing towards Hermione. "I -- no -- they -- I can't believe -- no..."

He sat next to her, carried her over and placed her on his lap, and wrapped his arms around her, not wanting to ever let go. She gazed at him worriedly with widening and curious eyes. "Harry, what's wrong?"

Harry leaned his face in towards her ear and whispered at such a low volume that Ron couldn't hear. "Professor McGonagall told me about what they did to you. What they did to your parents."

Hermione leaned back and stared into his eyes with her brown ones, which were now forming tears. Her face turned into a frown and she began crying into her hands. "Harry..." she muttered as Harry pulled her closer towards him. She removed her face from her hands and cried into the crook of his neck. But Harry didn't mind. He absentmindedly stroked her hair as she cried. He didn't want this to have happened to such an amazing, brilliant person like Hermione.

"Don't worry," Harry whispered. "I'm right here, okay? Nobody will ever hurt you again."

Hermione didn't look at him, but she nodded, showing that she heard him and believed in every word he spoke.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I really hoped that you liked this chapter :) I put a lot of thought into it. Sorry about the overdose of angst and stuff, but it's just how I roll. So yeah. Thanks for reading! Pretty please review :) I reply to all reviews personally! :D


	7. Ride of the Express

**Author's Note: **Big super duper thank you to everyone who reviewed! 13 reviews from the last chapter Oo More than I could ever ask for hehe :) I hope that you all like this chapter now. It's not really filled with plot -- just warning you now. Anyways, yeah, hope you enjoy :D

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

_Chapter Seven: Ride of the Express_

"Hermione, I've got Crookshanks for you. You left him with me before you got on the train, but I suppose you'd want him back now..."

Neville's voice echoed through the small compartment as the glass door slid open, making a small screeching sound. Neville Longbottom himself stepped into the compartment and looked around. Harry's eyes fluttered open, and Neville's round face looked solemn.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Neville whispered.

"It's okay," Harry replied.

He stretched out his arms as his eyes adjusted to the light in the compartment. He glanced at the figure across from him. It was Ron, snoring. Harry felt something in his lap, and also something on his chest and against the crook of his neck. It was Hermione, sleeping without making any audible noises, although her lips were occasionally moving to form words that were never actually spoken.

"Is Hermione alright?" Neville asked as he lowered Crookshanks to the floor.

The cat leaped up beside Hermione, looked at Harry, and stayed where he was rather getting closer to Hermione. At first, Harry was confused, but then he understood (after all, he'd gained _some_ knowledge from those days at Mrs. Figg's house) that Crookshanks believed Hermione to be Harry's territory.

"Well, now she is," Harry said quietly. He absently stroked her bushy hair and flinched at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks. "Shh," he whispered as an automatic need to comfort her. The volume of his voice was so low that only her silent figure could've been able to hear him if she were concious.

"I feel terrible about what happened."

Harry nodded, not moving his eyes away from Hermione. She looked so peaceful, Harry noticed, as Neville hesitantly sat down next to Ron. Hermione shifted a bit in her sleep and muttered something inaudible. Then, without her own thoughts controlling her, she nestled her face deeper into the crook of Harry's neck. Harry felt a little guilty about not paying too much attention to Neville, because after two minutes of silence, Neville had said,

"I guess I'll see you later, then, Harry."

Harry had finally tore his eyes away from Hermione and looked up at Neville, who was standing up and waving good-bye. "'Bye, Neville."

Hermione was asleep for another twenty minutes before she began muttering audibly in her sleep. "No, don't take him..." she said unconciously, shaking her head, her eyes closed shut. "Take me...No, not him! _Take me instead!_ NO! HARRY!"

"Hermione! _Hermione!_" Harry exclaimed frantically, trying to wake her up without completely startling her.

Her brown eyes snapped open and searched the compartment until she found Harry's eyes. Her forehead was beaded with sweat and she was gasping for breath. "H-Harry, you're o-okay!" she said weakly, but her voice had a happy tone clinging onto it.

"I'm fine," Harry lied. His heart was beating at an unbearable pace. "W-What happened?"

Hermione closed her eyes and placed one of her hands on his chest, right over his racing heart. "Nightmare," was all she needed to say.

"Oh God, Hermione..." Harry whispered to her mournfully. He couldn't stop his fingers from softly caressing her cheek. Hermione didn't seem to mind it, because she closed her eyes and leaned in closer to him. "About me? Getting hurt?"

The rims of Hermione's eyes got wet. "T-They hurt you. Death E-Eaters. W-Wouldn't take me i-instead."

Harry wrapped his arms tightly around Hermione's waist. She shivered. "If, God forbid, that happens in real life," he said with a firm tone, "you get the hell _out_ and leave me behind. Safe yourself from now on."

"But -- " she began, surprised at the way he was speaking to her.

"No," Harry said in that same firm tone.

Hermione didn't argue that time.

"C-Crookshanks!" Hermione said happily ten minutes later. Harry was glad for the change of mood -- even he could only handle so much saddening truths. Crookshanks took it as an acceptable invitation to sit on her lap. Hermione smiled, and despite how fake it appeared, it was the attempt that made Harry's heart swell.

It was only fifteen minutes after the discovery of Crookshanks that Hermione found a bit of her own personality in the mess of grieving. "We need to get our robes on." Harry was glad that she was acting somewhat like herself.

"Ron!" she shouted as loudly as she could. "Ron, wake up, we need to get our school robes on!"

Ron rocked back and forth for five seconds and then awkwardly sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Wha -- ?"

"School robes," Harry said impatiently. He carried Hermione over to the seat next to where they had been sitting just moments before. He reached for his trunk on the shelf above him, pulled the trunk down, and extracted a set of robes. Then Harry reached back up and grabbed Hermione's trunk, too, and placed it gingerly on her lap. When she raised her eyebrows, he explained, "You must be insane to think that I'd go through a girl's school trunk." With that, she smiled and performed the chore herself, taking out her own set of robes.

"So..." Ron said awkwardly. Usually, Hermione would move over to another compartment with other girls to change, but she was immobile now without her wheelchair, and Harry and Ron couldn't just carry her somewhere with a random, untrustworthy pack of girls.

Harry, with an idea, was able to retrieve Ginny, already in her hand-me-down robes. "Ron and I will go into your compartment with Dean and get changed. Could you help Hermione?"

Ginny nodded.

--

"We're here," Harry said.

He heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath and added, "Don't worry. It'll be alright." Harry wasn't so sure as to how true that statement was.

When the Hogwarts Express came to a complete stop, Harry could feel his pulse increase speed. His gaze was wary as he witnessed the other students leave the train, and he waited until everything was clear when he and Ron helped Hermione get out into the corridor. They left their belongings on the train, because they were due to be sent up to their rooms by nightfall.

As expected, the Hogwarts Express employee was ready with Hermione's wheelchair. He tipped his hat in her direction. "Good day, Miss."

"Here we go," Ron said with a lack of enthusiasm.

Harry shot him a warning look that screamed: _not helping_.

Twenty minutes later, nobody was surprised that Harry, Hermione, and Ron were a few minutes late to dinner. Still, surprised or not, the other students were eager to cast anxious glances at Hermione; from the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws, she earned sympathy; she gained loathing looks from the Slytherins -- they were upset that she had survived.

Harry was thankful that Hermione wasn't heavy, because he easily carried her from her wheelchair to her seat at the Gryffindor table.

"Hi, Hermione," Lavender and Parvati greeted her. They didn't shoot questions at her like Harry had expected, but they did look desperate to know what happened. For gossiping girls, it was expected.

When Dumbledore made a speech, Harry was only half paying attention, mainly because more and more people seemed to be interested in Hermione. Usually, such excitement would die down after a while. This worried Harry, and he absentmindedly placed a protective arm over Hermione.

"Harry," Hermione's gentle voice said. "What are you doing?"

He glanced at his arm and reluctantly pulled it back to his side. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Oh." She seemed to comprehend his initial intentions. "Oh, I didn't know -- it's okay, Harry, I...Thanks. Why do you think people continue to look at me?"

Her question stung at him. "I don't know," he said solemly, glancing at the other students. "Or maybe...maybe it really hits home, you know, that...that horrible stuff could really happen to...anyone, really."

Harry regretted speaking his thoughts, though, because Hermione began staring at the ceiling and blinking quickly, covering up the fact that she was ready to cry. And through the prepared sobs, she whispered, "It really does hit home."

* * *

**Author's Note:** PRETTY PLEASE READ: Okay, I just have to say that I am madly in love with this story. It's by far my favorite of all my fanfic pieces. I don't want it to ever end, and I guess that's why it's progressing slowly. Thanks for reading. Pretty please review! :D


	8. Realization of Beauty

**Author's Note:** That's right, I'm back. Whether that's a good or bad thing to you, I'm not sure, but deal with it either way. I wasn't updating because I was going through a, um, difficult time in my life and I needed a few weeks to just sort things out. Writing is my passion, though, and I couldn't just leave all yous. That would be cruel...well, that was totally unjustified because I'm cruel towards Hermione by pulling her through terrible stuff. I'm not even sure if my previous sentence made any sense whatsoever to anybody. I figured that I would "speed things up", if you're catching my drift. You guys deserve some kind of romantic scene after waiting for so long :)

And special thanks to Sky (SkyTreader62) not only for reading this chapter beforehand and giving her input, but for understanding when I began going through my difficult situation. Thanks, girl. You're amazing and awesome and the bomb Now you all better read her stories after reading and reviewing this, or Eliza Markovitch will come after you!

**Super-quick Recap: **(If you have NOT read any of the other chapters, then by reading the recap you are spoiling the element of surprise. Your choice.) The trio got back at Hogwarts, and people keep bugging Hermione about what had happened to her. She is scheduled to have "counceling sessions" with Eliza Markovitch, her scary-looking Comforter (a.k.a. guidance counselor, if you will), once a week.

* * *

Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

_Chapter Eight: Realization of Beauty_

"I mean, can you believe the nerve? I want Markovitch dead! Dead! I suppose I would loose my prefect's badge if I actually _killed_ her, but still – Oh, Harry, hi!" She pushed her hair behind her ears and tried to look calm and relaxed with the "don't worry about me" look upon her reddened face.

Harry was sitting in the common room, where he had been for the past hour waiting for Hermione. She was acting more like herself every day, but Harry wasn't sure if it was a natural process or if she was trying to disguise her pain.

Harry stood up, fuming already, wondering what had occurred at the "counseling session" Hermione had with Eliza Markovitch.

"What happened?" he asked as he rushed to her side and pushed her wheelchair beside the couch that he was previously sitting on.

"First of all, Harry, you don't need to push my wheelchair for me. I can move it myself." But he spotted a smile and an addition of redness that had nothing to do with her outburst of anger just before. "And I can kind of walk!" she added, protesting, as he easily picked her up and carried her to the seat next to him.

"Tell me what Markovitch did," Harry said. "I don't have a prefect badge to loose."

"Well," she began, breathing in deeply, "she asked me to recall what happened to…you know…my…parents." Hermione choked out the word _parents_ with a lot of apparent effort. "And…I told her no, but we got in this whole argument…really pointless to call it counseling…"

"Oh God," he muttered, absently reaching for her hand and holding it tightly in his. "Hermione, I'll talk to Dumbledore about this. He'll -- "

"Don't," Hermione said the one thing Harry hadn't been expecting. "You're too...protective. Really, I'm fine. That little rant of mine wasn't necesssary. It really _really_ wasn't."

This left Harry speechless. He gazed at her chocolate brown eyes, both realizing their beauty and trying to understand why she was saying all this. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to say, but before he could open his mouth, Hermione spoke again.

"I know that you want to help me. I really do appreciate everything you've done," she said gently. She applied pressure to his hand quickly before continuing. "But..."

"But what?" Harry asked desperately, finally finding his voice.

"I'm...I'm annoying, aren't I? I feel like I'm such a burden for you. Like you feel like you have to take care of me all the time, and you have much more important things to worry about," Hermione admitted.

Harry blinked at her.

She thought she was annoying. She thought she was a burden. She thought that he had more important things to worry about.

"Hermione," he began.

"Don't!" she interupted. "Dont say that I'm wrong! You have to worry about Voldemort, not this burden in a wheelchair! When Markovitch asked me to repeat what happened, it made me think. Here's me, in a bloody _wheelchair_, and I'm all you've been worrying about. Me. There are more important things. Worry about yourself. I'll be fine. I _am_ fine."

Harry, his motions quick so that she didn't have time to protest, carried to her to his lap. Hermione was looking away from him. Her eyes were focused upon the grand fireplace, her eyes reflecting the deep fire. He could spot a potential tear in the corner of each eye. For the second time that night, he swallowed hard, wondering how to put his thoughts into words correctly.

"You're _not_ fine," Harry whispered in her ear.

He felt her shiver against him. Hermione shook her head, her chin trembling.

"I-I'm fine," she argued, her voice as smooth as silk itself. "I have to be strong, anyways." She seemed to be talking to herself more than to him, as though she were in a desperate attempt to convince herself that what she said was true.

He closed his eyes. "You don't have to be strong all the time. Especially not around me. I understand."

Harry opened his eyes only to see Hermione looking straight at him, her face inches away from his own. He realized just now that her legs were on either side of him. If someone were to walk into the common room right now, a very wrong assumption would probably be made. But Harry didn't care if Tom Riddle himself walked in the room at that moment, because Hermione was gently leaning towards him and his breath quickened and his heart was racing and she looked beautiful. _Beautiful_.

This scared Harry. This was Hermione, his best friend, and he somehow found her beautiful. This young woman, so hurt, leaning towards him, was beautiful.

However, Hermione ended up resting her head against his chest. "I don't know if I told you this," she said, "but thank you, Harry. For everything. I owe you." She chuckled.

He absentmindedly stroked her brown hair. "You don't owe me anything."

"I'm still a burden, though."

"No," he whispered. "You never _were_ a burden, you are not a burden now, and you never _will_ be a burden."

"I -- "

"Shh, Hermione. Don't argue with me and accept the fact that I care about you and you're _very_ important to me, no matter how dangerous Voldemort may be."

He saw her nod against him. She suddenly sat up, facing him and her cheeks stained with tears. This time, when she leaned towards him, she didn't rest her head against his chest.

For some reason that Harry couldn't quite explain at that moment, he was disapointed when her lips did not meet his lips, but instead his cheek. Her lips were extremely soft, even if it was just an innocent peck against his cheek.

Hermione away by a few centimeters and he could feel her hot breath trickle against his skin. Harry looked off to the side, where he met her gaze was. She was smiling.

It wasn't the fake smile that she had tried to pull off lately. It was a smile that displayed nothing but pure happiness. Without thinking, and not being sure if it really mattered whether either of them were thinking at that moment, Harry put his right hand on her cheek and gently stroked it. Hermione closed her eyes and smiled once more, leaning into his hand.

Harry had to admit that if he _had _been thinking thoroughly about common knowledge, he never would have done it. He wouldn't have been holding her face in both hands now. He wouldn't have dared to touch his best friend in such a nonplatonic way like this. He wouldn't have even _considered_ kissing her if he were to think about Ron's and Ginny's feelings. But for once, Harry wasn't thinking about anyone but him and Hermione and how badly he wanted to kiss her.

And then he finally stopped to think about Hermione's feelings: would she back away? Would she be okay with it? Although it might've ruined the moment, Harry knew he had to ask for permission, especially with a such a currently fragile person like Hermione.

He leaned towards her face just a bit closer. But before he spoke, Hermione whispered, "Kiss me."

This caught him off guard. "W-What?" he stammered, immediately feeling idiotic afterwards.

"I said: kiss me. I want you to kiss me."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Romantic cliffys are the best...except for, you know, the fact that it's a dang _cliffy_. But other than that, they're chill, I think. Please review, even if you're mad at me for not updating for a while. I still reply to each review personally :)


	9. Hesitation of a Kiss

**Author's Note:** Holy crap, you guys. Holy crap. I can't even begin to thank you all for, well, everything. This story received 25 reviews for just chapter 8 alone (I had to recount about four times for me to actually believe it, haha). The majority of those reviews mentioned caring comments, wondering how I was doing with my own personal struggle that I'm dealing with. It really touched me how so many people would actually enjoy me being back here. And apparently chapter 8 wasn't that bad. Sky (SkyTreader62) is probably tired of this, but I want to thank her again for double-checking chapter 8 before I posted it. I felt pressured into making this chapter perfect. Those romantic cliffys have a lot to live up to, haha.

**No Worries: **I had theater camp for the past 2 weeks, but it ended so I'll have a lot more free time now :)

**Disclaimer:** Do I even need to say it, kiddies? I don't own Harry Potter. He's such a sweetheart, though, so I wish I owned him. But I don't so I'm gonna go sulk in a corner now. Well I have a chapter to write, and _then_ I'll go sulk in a corner. I'll shut up now.

* * *

Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

_Chapter Eight: Hesitation of a Kiss_

"Kiss me, Harry," Hermione whispered.

Harry could feel her hot breath tickle his skin. Her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes, bore into his green ones and caused his heart to nearly skip a beat. He could see the hurt she was suffering, the same hurt that she'd been through for the past few weeks, as she leaned in towards him.

"Not yet."

It took a moment for Harry to realize that the firm words were his own. He suspected that his conscious had spoken aloud for itself. And in that second, it made sense. They had to both think things through properly. Sure, it was just a kiss, but was it wrong to kiss Hermione when she was so vulnerable? Did she want him to kiss her for the right reasons? Or did she just think that it would get rid of the pain, even for a small amount of time?

"Why?" Hermione asked as she tilted her head to the side and examined his expression. She was clearly trying to hide the oncoming hurt, and was failing miserably. Her chin trembled slightly.

"Why do you want me to kiss you?" he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione shook her head, her face reddening. "Are you serious? Do you want me to actually _say it_?"

"Hermione -- "

"Shh," she said, placing a finger to his lips, immediately silencing him. "I want you to kiss me because I can't do it myself. I'm too…weak. Emotionally, anyhow. And as for the general kissing idea…" Her face reddened even more as she gulped and continued,

"You're just so sweet, Harry. And caring. And understanding. Everything I need, right here, right now. The real question is: why _wouldn't_ I want you to kiss me?"

"Hermione," he said softly, not being interrupted this time, "I just wanted to make sure that you're…comfortable. That I'm not taking advantage or anything."

"_That's_ what you were worried about?" Hermione said, surprised, with a laugh.

Harry nodded sheepishly, biting his lip and looking away from her studious gaze.

"Only Harry Potter, eh?"

And with that, Hermione leaned in towards him but at some point, Harry knew that he had to move forward too and hold her and kiss her and…

Their lips met with such a passionate force that both Harry and Hermione had to pull away after a few seconds in order to breathe. He didn't mean to hold her body so close to his, or to kiss her with so much emotion, or to whisper her name between kisses, because she seemed so fragile to him, but the moment was so sacred and he wanted it to last for as long as it could.

Hermione ran her hands through his already messy hair and Harry ever-so-gently traced her spine and neck with his fingers.

But before he knew it, they finally pulled away, ending their first kiss. Harry smiled as Hermione sighed, rested her head on his shoulder, and looked at him with a loving expression playing across her beautiful features. He absently stroked her hair.

"Wow," was all Harry could say.

Hermione laughed. "You know what?"

Harry turned to face her, the smile upon his face never seeming to be able to fade any time soon. "What?" he asked.

"I don't think I've ever felt so happy in my lifetime," Hermione said as she rested her hand on his chest and continued to smile at him.

His heart might've just skipped a beat right there. And without hesitating, Harry said, "Same here, Hermione. Same here."

**Author's Note:** Yes, _extremely_ short chapter, but I had finally figured out how to write this chapter and there was only so much I could possibly keep going. Fellow fan fiction writers probably understand what I mean, hehe. Or maybe not and I'm just kind of weird and a tease. Oh and I didn't read this chapter over, nor do I remember exactly what I had written. Now that I think about it, the kiss needed its own chapter because it's such an important life-changing moment for Harry and Hermione. Please review :) I reply to all my reviews personally


	10. Worry of Danger

**Author's Note: **Alright, so I've gotten a lot of private messages from readers, wondering where I've been and how I was, and I'd like to say thank you! I feel loved, you guys. But if you're sick and tired of my recently slow updates, then feel free to stop reading the story. I don't blame you at all. This chapter was really hard to write because while angsty stuff is kind of my forte, I felt the need to add some kind of cheerfulness. It's short because there's yet another kind of cliffy, but the chapter was also, as I said before, just hard to write...And to the 24 reviewers from last chapter -- thank you! I love you all. I really, really do :)

**Also: **I promise that I'll get chapter eleven out very soon :) I owe you guys more frequent updates and I'm very sorry.

* * *

Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

_Chapter Ten: Worry of Danger_

"What do we do now?"

Hermione's soft voice broke the thirty-minute-long silence. Harry absently stroked her hair and kissed her forehead, the wheels in his mind turning.

_What do we do now?_ Internally, Harry's only response would be a shrug. How would their fellow classmates react? And the not-so-fellow classmates, like Malfoy...

Malfoy.

If Malfoy found out just how close Harry and Hermione had gotten, the Death Eaters were sure to find out. Harry gasped.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Hermione lifted her head up from its previous resting place, the crook of his neck, and wore a sudden worried expression. "Harry?" She gently lifted her right hand to his cheek.

He didn't reply to her. Harry didn't want to scare her by revealing his sudden suspicion. She had enough to deal with.

If the Death Eaters found out about this, Hermione would be in even more danger...

"Harry, answer me!" Hermione said in an almost-yell. Her hand was away from his face and seemed to be prepared to slap him. "Don't have that kind of expression and not tell me what's wrong."

Although he was a bit startled by Hermione's sudden fierceness, Harry slowly pulled her hand down and held it in his own. Was it worth it?

"I'm sorry, Hermione..."

"What are you talking about? You have nothing to be sorry about -- "

"This is selfish." Harry looked down at their intertwined hands. "I'm just putting you in more danger."

He heard Hermione sigh. "I didn't think you'd begin wondering this _already_."

"You knew that this is selfish -- " Harry began, but she cut him off.

"I understand why you don't want to put me in danger. Of course I understand, Harry. You care about me so much..." she paused, taking a deep breath. "But sometimes...sometimes we've got to not care about everything else. Sometimes we just need that _one person_ in our lives as more than just a friend."

"But it's dangerous -- "

"Shh," Hermione interupted again. She adjusted herself on his lap so that she was facing him head-on now. "I knew what the dangers were when I became your friend. Everyone's lives are in danger now. I don't think it could hurt for us to just...you know. Be _more_ than just friends."

"Hermione..."

"Harry, don't bother. Everything else of me is broken. I don't want my heart to be broken as well," Hermione whispered, looking down now.

She held out her arms and pushed up her sleeves. Harry gasped inaudibly.

Harry had never seen any more of Hermione's body than what she revealed. And ever since the incident, it wasn't much.

There were cuts covering most of the skin on her arms, and Harry couldn't even imagine what they looked like before the healing process had begun. Something sharp felt like it was slamming against his heart and getting caught in his throat.

"Oh God, Hermione...I didn't...I didn't know it was _that_ bad..."

In that moment, Harry understood. Hermione wasn't showing this so that Harry would feel bad for her. It was a symbol of her loyalty to everything she stood for...her parents, her life...him.

"I think I can stand a little more danger, Harry," Hermione said in a monotone as she pulled down her sleeves.

And then she leaned in towards his face...

--

"But -- " Hermione had begin to argue the following morning as they were on their way to the Great Hall. She still needed a wheelchair for the next three days, and although she could magically maneuver it, Harry preferred pushing the wheelchair for her instead

"No," Harry said firmly. "_Public display of affection_ is a definite 'no' for now."

"Harry..."

He leaned down, over the back of the chair, to kiss her cheek. "Doesn't mean I'm attracted to you any less," he whispered at such a low volume that even the first year stumbling inches away from them couldn't hear.

Apparently the smooth technique worked, because Hermione ended up smiling and nodding. Harry made a mental note to thank Fred and George.

The moment they entered the Great Hall, Harry felt rather awkward, as if "I kissed Hermione Granger last night" was written in plain view on his school robes. Hermione almost seemed to be feeling just as awkward because she shifted uneasily in her chair a few times before they approached their normal seats at the Gryffindor table.

Hermione looked around the Hall nervously as Harry helped her into her seat.

"Well, good morning, sunshine," Ron muttered sarcastically to Hermione.

Harry was just about to lift his hand to begin eating, but he felt something warm surround it. He looked down to see Hermione's hand, then looked up immediately after to smile at her. They both pulled away before Ron could notice.

The rest of the day seemed less enjoyable than Harry had expected. He and Hermione were constantly around Ron, and although Ron was his best mate, Harry desperately wanted at least a few minutes alone with Hermione.

He got his lucky chance when Dean Thomas asked Ron about Fred and George's joke shop, leaving Harry and Hermione alone on their way to the Great Hall for dinner.

"Hermione, I -- "

"Miss Granger!" a deep, hollow voice echoed throughout the corridor.

Harry cursed under his breath and quickly reached for Hermione's hand.

Markovitch.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I want to mention that the problem, "Hermione's in more danger by being attracted to Harry this way, and by Harry being attracted to her this way, etc", is certainly not solved for good. I don't solve issues this easily, y'know. This problem will be brought up many times, so don't worry. Yay for a chance of more plot. And yay for this kind-of-cliffhanger. Oh, and thanks for reading. Please review. Reviews make me happy :D


	11. Tale of a Brave Mother

**Author's Note:** I must admit that I rock at keeping promises. I made a longer chapter, _and_ I've updated quicker. I pray to God that this chapter doesn't suck because I haven't re-read it, but I always tend to update my stories right before I go to sleep, and I'm tired before I go to sleep. Even if I _tried_ to re-read it now, I doubt that my brain would be quick enough to catch errors. Oh and thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. I love you guys :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Stupid disclaimers for always reminding me.

* * *

Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

_Chapter Eleven: Tale of a Brave Mother_

"Miss Granger," Markovitch hissed. "I wanted to talk to you about something..."

Her black-as-night heels slammed against the marble floor of the corridor, each noise louder than the previous step.

Harry heard Hermione gasp, then felt her hand squeeze his. She was clearly nervous, and Harry didn't blame her. He leaned in towards her ear and whispered, "Everything's okay. I'll make sure she doesn't get near you."

Hermione's shoulders rested, but she seemed not completely assured.

"Y-Yes?" she choked.

"I believe our last session was cut short." Markovitch was now a few feet away from them, standing with her arms crossed over her chest. "Believe me, I will have you expelled if you ever walked out of my office without permission _ever again_. Overreacting, that's what it is. I was trying to explain the reality of the situation -- "

"Reality?!" Harry yelled, standing in front of Hermione, her hand still in his. There was some kind of flame inside him that raged with anger...how could Markovitch possibly talk to Hermione like this? "I think Hermione has faced more reality than you could ever imagine -- "

"Mr. Potter, I recommend you move aside before I make a threat to expel _you_ as well," Markovitch said roughly, not responding to any of Harry's actual words.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No. I won't move aside."

"Harry, don't...it's not worth it," Hermione whispered shakily.

He turned his head around to face her. "I told you that she wouldn't get near you. And she won't."

"I insist on our second session beginning right now, Miss Granger," Markovitch said, now completely ignoring Harry.

_Coward_, he thought, clenching the fist that wasn't held in Hermione's hand.

"I don't want to have another session," Hermione said before Harry could speak. Her voice was so shaky that Harry was tempted to turn around and hold her in his arms to comfort her...But he had to stay strong to protect her from Markovitch.

The Comforter laughed coldly. "Nobody cares if you don't want to have another session, darling."

"I do."

"Mr. Potter, this is none of your business," she snapped.

"Hermione means a lot to me and I won't let you just -- "

"Is there a problem here?" a familiar voice echoed through the corridor, rather loudly compared to the distance it was away from Harry.

Dumbledore. He seemed to be radiating hope as he walked down the same direction Markovitch had, approaching the scene within seconds.

"Hello, Professor," Harry and Hermione said in unison.

Dumbledore nodded, smiling, in their direction before turning to Markovitch.

"Miss Granger refuses to attend another session," the Comforter said harshly, hissing.

"Is another session scheduled for today?"

"Well, no, but -- "

"Eliza, we had a deal," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as his eyebrows raised knowledgably. "While the Ministry of Magic wants power in this time of danger within our world, I'd imagine that you would at least want to stick with a deal. Imagine the Minister's reaction when the news gets out that you broke a deal with the Headmaster of Hogwarts." He stood on his toes, then on his heels, rocking back and forth.

"Albus, I believe that's _blackmail_."

"No, no, of course not," he replied, winking at Harry. "Just a wondering thought. You know how ancient minds get after a while." He pointed to his temple.

"Yes, but -- "

"Our deal was every other week day. It's Tuesday, and lessons are Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays."

"I prefer _every_ week day."

"Once a week, then, Eliza, if you must behave like this."

"But -- "

"I believe Minerva scheduled a meeting with me. I best be off now."

Markovitch sighed.

"Once a week," Dumbledore said calmly, nodding to Markovitch. He turned on his heels to Harry and Hermione. "Best of luck," he said with a wink. Before they knew it, he had strolled out of the corridor less gracefully than before.

Markovitch hissed and left in the opposite direction.

How could Dumbledore let this happen? Even though he had seemingly shortened the amount of sessions, couldn't he just as easily gotten rid of them completely? Did he have any idea how awful of a person Eliza Markovitch was? But before Harry could let his anger build up, Hermione was standing in front of him.

"I'll be okay," she whispered, looking down. She held both of his hands now.

"Hermione..."

"No, it's fine. I'll be fine."

"You won't -- "

"I'll...be...fine..." Hermione stuttered. Her chin trembled. "I can't let her get to me."

"Didn't we cover this already?" Harry said, stepping closer to her. "You don't have to be strong all the time."

"But she'll get the satisfaction -- "

Harry silenced her by pressing his lips gently against hers. Hermione sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck as he softly held the small of her back. After a few minutes, they broke away.

Hermione smiled and shook her head, tears finally falling from her beautiful brown eyes. He wiped her tears away and softly kissed her cheek. Then Hermione stepped into his open arms. She was always welcome into his embrace.

"We're going to be late for dinner, you know," Hermione said.

"I think this is a bit more important than dinner."

"Just a bit?" Hermione laughed quietly.

"Okay, a _lot_ more important."

She sighed again and settled herself my comfortably in his arms as he ran his fingers through her hair.

--

"You two look a bit more cheerful than when I last saw you," Ron commented the moment Harry helped Hermione into her seat in the Great Hall for dinner.

"Is there something wrong with that?" Hermione snapped.

"Of course n-- Gosh, Hermione..." Ron stuttered, taken aback. "You're acting more like yourself. What's up?"

She glared at him, then shrugged, and Harry could tell that she was desperately trying to hide a smile. He reached under the table and held her hand. Her attempt to hide the smile failed, and her teeth were revealed by the genuine curve of her lips. Even a small amount of laughter escaped.

Ron raised his eyebrows but didn't say much more after that; he seemed to prefer casting glances from Harry, to Hermione, then back at Harry.

Harry tried to ignore the glances, but after a while, they were almost impossible to ignore.

"Well, I'm full," Harry said after Ron's blue eyes were boring into his skin. "You?" he asked, looked at Hermione.

She smiled. "Yes."

He slowly helped her out of her seat and back into her wheelchair, now receiving even more glares from classmates, and they both made their way out of the Great Hall.

A few moments later, he heard Ron's breathless voice a few yards away. "Wait up! How _fast_ does that wheelchair go, anyways?"

Hermione sighed and slammed her hand against the armrest of her chair. "Ouch..."

"You okay?" Harry asked; an automatic response. He immediately was kneeling down in front of her.

"You worry too much," Hermione muttered, smiling. "Just hit my hand a little _too_ hard...Wouldn't have normally hurt, but -- " she paused to lift her palm up. There was a small scar across her palm. Harry had never noticed it before. "My mum's kitchen knives were too sharp."

"Did you get this from before -- "

"Nope," she began to explain. "Death Eaters decided to use muggle tools."

Something got caught in Harry's throat as Hermione whispered, "Mum".

"Hermione! I -- Oh," Ron mumbled as he approached the two. "Are you okay?"

"Of course she's not okay," Harry said ratherly harshly as he took Hermione's hand.

Tears began gently falling from Hermione's eyes. She shook her head, mumbling "mum" over and over again...

Harry wanted them to be alone so that he could get close to her face to whisper words of comfort without Ron making assumptions; no matter how correct those assumptions might've been. Instead, he stayed at this nearly painful distance while Ron kneeled down to Harry's right and tried to cheer Hermione up.

Although it was very clear that Hermione was only fully paying attention to Harry.

"Do you want to go somewhere else? Where there aren't any other _nosy students_?" Harry asked, turning to glare at a group of curious fourth years at the other side of the corridor. "We'll make sure nobody bothers you."

At the mention of "we", Ron's face lit up. Harry sighed. It was obvious that Ron would be included, but for some reason, this bothered Harry a bit. He looked back at Hermione, who was softly giggling at something that Ron had said, and shrugged.

Hermione looked back at Harry, not forgetting his offer. "Yes, please. I'd appreciate that."

The common room was a definite _no_. The library might've been a bit more calm...but then again, if Madam Pince began snapping at Hermione, any chances of her emotional breakdown getting better soon would shatter into a million pieces.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, looking down into her lap, tears still falling.

Ron didn't look in her direction, so it was obvious he hadn't heard her. But Harry did.

"For what?" Harry asked, confused, in the same low whisper.

"Breaking down..._again_," she replied.

"You don't have to be sorry for that. It's okay."

"It's not. Really, Harry, everyone's going to get tired of this...I'm sorry..."

"It isn't your fault," Harry whispered, looking back at Ron to make sure he wasn't paying any attention to their conversation. "Nobody is blaming you."

"Harry -- "

"Aren't we almost at the library?" Ron interupted, putting his hands in his pockets and paying full attention to them now.

Nodding, Harry pushed Hermione's wheelchair around the next corner, and entered the library...

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked the moment Ron left for the bathroom; about ten minutes after they had came into the library.

Was it wrong to be even the slighest bit jealous of Ron, who had been making Hermione laugh so easily? Harry had just been sitting there, watching Hermione's beautiful smile and hearing her cheerful laugh. Of course he was happy that she now seemed joyful, but was it good to just cover up the holes with laughter? After a while it would hurt her more...

"Nothing," he lied.

"I'm not stupid," she said plainly, folding her arms across her chest.

"Everyone knows you're not stupid."

Hermione laughed quietly. "Seriously, though, Harry...what's wrong?" She tilted her head to one side and studied his face. "You can tell me. You know that."

Harry shrugged. "Ron doesn't understand..."

"Doesn't understand wh-- Oh." Hermione looked down and twiddled her fingers. "I know he doesn't. You do." She looked up at him.

"I know that. I just don't want you to get more hurt...he's making you laugh, and of course I don't mind you laughing, really, I don't, but in the end -- "

"I get what you're saying," she said with a nod. "Are you...jealous?"

"No," Harry said firmly.

"Harry..."

He sighed. "You know I don't get jealous of other guys easily."

"He's getting attention from me," she stated. "I understand." Hermione gently placed her left hand on his right one. "_You_ understand."

"Of course." They were getting a bit off topic, talking about Ron, when Harry's intentions were for her to talk about her mum. It might've soothed her. Another wound beginning to heal. "Do you...want to talk about her? You know, about your mum..."

Hermione smiled, her eyes getting wet again.

"I mean I completely understand if you don't want to talk about her..."

"No, it's fine," she whispered, smiling again. "I think it would be good to talk about her."

Harry nodded, willing her to continue.

The moment Hermione begun talking about the woman who brought her into this world, Harry's attention was completely taken. He barely noticed when Ron rejoined them; Hermione didn't really seem to notice, either. She was looking at Harry, and nobody else.

"...I remember that up until I was six, she'd read me a story every night before I fell asleep. And every time, they were different stories. I really don't know how she had to time to buy so many books for me," Hermione continued, shrugging.

"I always wondered how you developed your interest in books," Harry said with a wink.

She laughed and continued. "Oh, and when McGonagall came to visit my house to deliver my Hogwarts letter. Now _that_ was something interesting...you see, my mum was a really paranoid person. She saw someone in incredible robes and a stern expression, and she immediately flipped out. Got a spatula and everything..."

Hermione told stories about her mother for another hour or so, and Harry was fascinated by this woman. She seemed to have been very strong, for a muggle, at least, and very protective of Hermione. It made him feel even more guilty...

It was until Madam Pince yelled the time at them that they didn't even realize that it was nearly midnight.

"Wow," was all Harry could really say once they entered the common room. "Your mum seemed brilliant."

"Oh, she was," Hermione said. She flinched at the word _was_, and he quickly stroked her hair in such a way that Ron didn't see.

Ron only nodded and walked up the stairs to the boy's dormitories, appearing to be deep in thought.

"Well, I suppose this is good night -- " Harry began awkwardly.

"Er..." Hermione said quietly. "Could we sit down for a bit?"

Harry smiled at her. "Of course."

She smiled back as he carried her to her usual seat on the main couch.

"That was kind of...refreshing...you know...talking about my mum like that," Hermione said. Her eyes were focused on the dimming flames within the grand fireplace. "Thanks."

He gently rubbed her back. "I enjoyed listening."

A few moments of absolute silence passed between them before Hermione spoke again.

"I miss her."

It was all she had to say for Harry to carry her to his lap. She adjusted herself into his embrace and cried into his shoulder.

Harry knew this would happen. It was almost impossible talk about a deceased loved one for over an hour and not break down like this. But afterwards, Hermione would be okay. He understood. It was just the healing process.

"Thank y-you," Hermione managed to stutter. "For...for b-being here for m-me..."

Harry held her closer to him.

"I'll always be here," he whispered in her ear.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'd like to mention that Markovitch issue _seems_ more resolved but it's not completely resolved. I know that several reviewers are going to blast me with "that's immature to (kind of) solve a problem with just Dumbledore's order". You know how I roll with that dramatic stuff. Pretty please review :) I'll love you forever _and_ I'll reply to your review. Even ask my frequent reviewers. I love them :D


	12. Fear of the Future

**Author's Note:** Before you all start running towards me with pitchforks, I think yous should hear my owed explanation. I've started my first year of high school, so I'm super super busy. High school is more important than fan fiction so I've kinda put this off to the side for the past few months. But now that I'm into a schedule, I'm back on track with this. I absolutely love writing fan fiction, and I could never abandon this story. I hope that you enjoy this chapter :)

**Thank you:** To the people who have reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story. To the people who have favorited and alerted me as an author. To the people who read every update even though they're secretly pissed at me for not updating frequently. To the people who bother me for an update because they're dying to know what's next. To the people who give me honest critique. To the people who love this story. Thank you :D

* * *

Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

_Chapter Twelve: Fear of the Future_

Harry wasn't exactly sure _how_ this all happened, or when, but all he knew was that when he woke up, he wasn't in the boy's dormitories, and his arms were around something.

Hermione?

He wasn't wearing his glasses so it was difficult to tell, but he was pretty sure that Hermione was right in front of him. Laying down. Facing him.

"Harry!" she said in an excited whisper. Her lips gently pecked his.

"Hermione, you -- I -- what?"

"You fell asleep last night," Hermione began. "And I just couldn't wake you up. You were too adorable."

Harry felt heat rise in his cheeks. "W-When did I fall asleep?"

"About two in the morning, I believe," she said, her eyes concentrating. "You said that you were really tired, and I kind of layed down right in front of you since I was tired, too." Hermione smiled at him.

Harry shrugged, a laugh as a response. "Well, good morning."

"Good morning." Hermione leaned towards him to kiss him again.

"What the – ?"

Harry slammed his eyes shut and held Hermione tightly. They both knew whose voice that was. The familiarity struck Harry violently.

Ron.

"What is _this_? I – you – Harry? With...Hermione? I can't believe this is --" he stuttered.

Harry had to open his eyes now. Ron was clutching his forehead and surprise had widened his eyes to twice their normal size. His face was becoming exponentially red by the second.

"Ron, I can explain!" Hermione said, panicking. She looked at Harry for a second, her eyes pleading.

Harry released her from his grasp reluctantly and sat up, facing his best friend. Although he knew that it would agitate Ron, he put his arm gently around Hermione's waist; it was an automatic response, the need to protect her, even if it was only Ron confronting them.

"Fine," he replied. "Explain to me, Hermione, why you and Harry were – were – just –_kissing on that couch_!"

"We didn't want to keep it as a secret!" Hermione said innocently. "That's just what ended up happening."

But even Harry knew that they never really agreed to revealing their relationship any time soon.

"Oh, did it now? And look what's happened! I can't believe you'd hide this from me. Harry? Why?"

Harry bit his lip as he looked up at Ron. He then swallowed roughly before speaking. "You know how dangerous it is to let people know about this."

Hermione smacked his arm. "I'm already in so much danger as being your friend, so being someone more to you doesn't change the fact that I'm still in danger – "

"Both of you!" Ron shouted. His face was now as red as his flaming hair. "It's not like I'd tell everyone about you two. You could've trusted me."

Harry sighed. "There's another factor, too, Ron. You know that."

Ron clutched his fists. "Jealousy, is it?"

"No," Hermione whispered, looking down. "Awkwardness. With me and Harry being together, you might've felt awkward."

"Whatever," Ron snapped. "I can't believe that you guys would do this to me."

And with that, Ron turned on his heels and stormed out of the common room.

"He'll get over it. He always does," Harry said more to himself than Hermione.

Then he heard sobbing.

"Hermione, what – what's wrong? You _know_ he'll get over it."

She shook her head and tears rolled off her bottom eyelids. Her hands were shaking. "Look what we did..."

"Hermione --" Harry began.

"No! Harry, he's our friend and we betrayed him!" Hermione squealed. She ran her fingers through her hair and continued to shake her hair. "I can't believe that just happened."

Harry wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. "Don't worry about it."

But apparently this was the wrong thing to say to her at the moment.

"Don't worry about it? _Don't worry about it?_ Harry, do you not see what we've done to Ron? Things will never be the same. No matter what, Ron will feel left out. When we make some kind of insane plan for another mad idea, he'll think that his opinion doesn't matter. And when we're in our group for Potions, he'll feel really awkward," Hermione said at the speed of light. "Look what we've done..."

While his arms were still around her, Harry turned his face away from Hermione. Was she more concerned about Ron? Harry was, of course, bothered by the fact that Ron knew what was between them, but he _knew_ Ron. He'd get over it....

But when? How long would it take for him to overcome the fact that Harry and Hermione were together as a couple?

"We...," Hermione began, her mouth open to say more. She paused.

"Hmm?"

"We...we...we can't – we can't do this anymore. _This_. Being a couple. I think we should stay as just good friends," she said. Her voice was at such a low volume that Harry had to close his eyes and concentrate deeply in order to hear her.

Then he wished he hadn't heard her. _We can't do this anymore._

"How is that supposed to help the awkwardness?" was Harry's verbal response.

"I don't know."

"We can work this out, Hermione," he said, pulling his arms tighter around her.

"We _can't_! This was just...just a product of you caring too much. It wouldn't have lasted anyways," she retorted with a sob.

Hermione's words slammed roughly against his chest and released his grip on her. She stood up and limped out of the common room and up the stairs to the girl's dormitories.

It was then that Harry's heart broke in two.

–

Hermione made her way to her four poster bed and laid down. It had been two weeks since she broke it off with Harry, and still it was weird being alone.

Usually Ginny was in the dormitory with her, helping her into her nightgown or school robes, or experimenting with her hair, or venting about how pushy Dean Thomas was.

Or Ron would be with her, asking her questions about schoolwork as he usually would. And he'd make the stupidest jokes and Hermione would laugh at just to make him feel like he was cheering her up.

Or Harry...Harry did everything for her. It hurt to think about him. She loved him as more than just a friend. She loved the way he wrapped his arms around her and didn't say anything. She loved his unexplainable way of putting a smile on her face. She loved when he didn't know what to do, so he'd just kiss her.

And she just threw it all away because of a prat. Hermione might as well have been the prat in this entire situation. But she _had_ to end it with Harry. What were the chances that they'd make it to the end? Surely Ron would intervene at some point. He showed jealousy over Krum, and the conversations following that between the two were either awkward or raged.

It felt like someone had taken her heart and was slowly ripping it into pieces. There was no way she could move on like this.

Harry was at meetings with Dumbledore more frequently. Every time he returned, Hermione would be innocently sitting in the common room, and Harry would wear that pale expression that he wore every time a realization of more danger occurred to him. He'd sit next to her and talk about the session, but never did he make eye contact for longer than five seconds. While he helped her move around, he managed to keep his distance from her, probably fearing that she'd be offended if he was too close to her.

Or maybe he just thought of her as breakable. Which, anyone could argue, she was. Every time she thought about her parents, tears met her eyelids. Whenever she saw a knife, she couldn't help but feel the pain in her arms. And now when she'd remember those romantic moments with Harry, her heart would break. Them not being as close as they were left her with no support. It was all her fault. She would keep hurting everyone in her life in fear of what might happen in the future.

What was the point?

–

"Where's Hermione?" Ron asked.

Harry paused at the sound of her name. It had just occurred to him that Hermione wasn't awkwardly sitting across from them.

"She was in the dormitory this morning," Ginny interjected with a raised eyebrow. "Then she went to the bathroom."

Ron shook his head, leaning towards Ginny. "Well it's not like me and Harry are going to check and see if she's alright. Go."

Harry was suddenly reminded of how Hermione wasn't alright by herself at all times. Of course she wasn't; her physical recovery still had some time to complete itself.

"Fine," Ginny snapped, standing up and strolling out of the Great Hall.

Harry shrugged the situation off and continued eating his breakfast. Hermione would be back within a matter of minutes.

Ginny's return was something he didn't expect. She walked quickly, without Hermione, and walked straight to the staff table. She talked to Professor McGonagall, who then stood abruptly and rushed out of the Great Hall. Ginny tried not to bring attention to herself and walked at a slower pace to their to their table.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"Harry, she..." Ginny began in a hushed voice. "Hermione tried to kill herself."

* * *

**Author's Note:** As if there wasn't enough angst already.


	13. Beginning of Healing

**Author's Note:** Hello my handsome cupcakes :) People probably hate me for ending the last chapter in such an angsty way, but no worries, I'm fixing that issue. Just because I'm fourteen doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing :P I usually write all of my chapters within like twenty minutes, but this literally took me an entire week of writing it paragraph by paragraph, abandoning ideas and discovering new ways to make the same outcome that I intended to make. Hopefully yous don't think it sucks as much as I think it sucks. Anyways, enjoy :D

* * *

**Tears of a Mourning Bookworm**

_Chapter Thirteen: Beginning of Healing_

The world froze. Someone turned the temperature down to absolute zero. Harry's brain stopped thinking. His hands stopped shaking. The other students in the Great Hall did not continue their vast conversation. Everything was still.

Then suddenly, Harry was standing outside of the Hospital Wing. Ginny and Ron were arguing about something but he could not hear them. The only sound that met his ears was the rapid beating of his heart.

It wasn't until Ron finally shook Harry's shoulders violently that he regained complete hearing. However, the rest of his body remained numb.

"They're not letting us inside because she hasn't _told_ anyone to come in here," Ron said, glaring at the door in mid-sentence.

"It's really cruel for them to do this to us," Ginny commented as she folded her arms across her chest.

Harry was barely paying attention to them. His gaze bore into the door to the Hospital Wing. He longed for Hermione more and more as each second passed. Behind that door, she was probably laying down on a bed and closing her eyes, deep in thought. She would be wrapped in bandages and Markovitch would insist on more sessions.

Hermione probably needed Harry as much as he needed her.

It hurt to remember that she broke it off with him two weeks ago. Her reason wasn't exactly clear, but Harry trusted her judgement and tried to go along with it. He assumed that she would apalogize for her irrational behavior and they'd pass their rough patch.

But _suicide_? Hermione tried to kill herself. Suicide? She must've lost her marbles to try to actually kill herself. To end it all. While Harry, of all people, understood why suicide would sometimes seem like an easy way out, he never imagined Hermione would try to kill herself. There had to be some kind of explanation behind her actions.

A few minutes later, the Hospital Wing's grand door opened and Professor McGonagall emerged. "Potter," she said abruptly, completely ignoring the presence of the Weasleys. "Come here." She gestured her hand towards the light that erupted from behind the door.

Harry froze for a moment before making his way after the professor. His heart beat was faster than ever. What was he going to say to Hermione? How was she going to react to him?

What he saw did not help slowing down his heart whatsoever. Hermione's beautiful brown eyes were wide open. Her lips were spread apart as though she was going to say something, and her chin trembled, threatening a rush of tears.

"Harry," she whispered.

"Hermione," he said, louder than was necessary. He ran to her side and immediately held her hand in his. Just as he was about to say something, she shook her head.

"Can we talk about this later?" she asked.

"_Later_? Hermione, you just --"

"It's not like that, I swear! Please...you have to understand...it'll make sense later," Hermione tried to reason.

Before he could ask for any details, she began sobbing. "I'm so sorry...I'm sorry, Harry, I really am. I swear it's not what it seemed to be. You hate me..."

"Don't be stupid," he said, trying to get even a faint chuckle out of her. "I'd never hate you."

While Harry didn't _hate_ her, he had to admit to himself that his numbness was being replaced by anger. She tried to leave the world forever. Tried to leave _him_. Wouldn't she have taken that into account? Did she care about him, or did she really mean it when she broke it off? Was there no misunderstanding?

"I'll explain later. There's too many people everywhere...they won't leave me alone," Hermione said in the most innocent voice Harry had ever heard; it didn't even sound like she was attempting it. It was just natural given the emotions she was experiencing. "I promise you, I will explain later." She squeezed his hand tightly.

Harry sighed. "I just want to know why you did it. I need to know. I can't wait."

"I'm so sorry..." Hermione started to sob again.

He would've yelled at her the moment he walked into the Hospital Wing, but with the look on her face and the innocence that surrounded her, there was no way he could harm her. He wanted to actually do the opposite. Tears spilled out of Hermione's brown eyes as her chin shook underneath the lips that Harry so desperately wanted to kiss now.

"Potter, Ms. Markovitch needs to ask you a few questions about Miss Granger," McGonagall said, breaking his train of thought.

"W-What? Markovitch?" he stuttered.

"Yes," she replied through gritted teeth. Her expression was as painful as his own.

"Right this way, Mr. Potter," a harsh voice beckoned. It was as though she was in the process of luring him to a dark lair.

Harry looked back at Hermione. She bit her lip. At least Markovitch would be away from her for a little bit. He gave her hand one last squeeze and followed the Comforter.

She led him to her office, which he had remembered from reluctantly leading Hermione there for her sessions. Ron and Ginny ran to him the moment the Hospital Wing door had opened.

Quickly thinking, he told Ginny to clear out any rumors of Hermione attempting suicide (the words took a while to make their way out of his throat clearly) and redeem them with the rumor that she had fallen down the stairs on her way to the Great Hall. With her condition, it would be understandable as to why she'd need care in the Hospital Wing. Ginny nodded and rushed off to complete her duty. Harry, realizing that he was too far behind Markovitch, ended up ignoring Ron's questions about how Hermione was.

Eliza Markovitch's office was dark. There was no artificial lighting, and even the window seemed to have a filter that allowed only a small amount of light into the room. There was nothing on the walls, which rid Harry of an opportunity to be distracted from the evil woman who had just placed herself in a grand chair that matched her dark hair.

"Sit," she ordered.

Harry gave her a glare and reluctantly obeyed. The chair she pointed to looked incredibly uncomfortable, and when he sat down, he realized it was even worse than how it looked. The wood underneath him was barely any support; he clutched onto the weak arms of the chair tightly. Trying to not fall out of the chair would suit as something to be distracted with.

"Now," Markovitch began in a voice deeper than her normal pitch, "I understand that you and Miss Granger are a couple?"

"It's complicated," he replied.

She smiled. It wasn't a cheery gesture of reassurance. Her smile was simply a product of sick pleasure from the fact that Harry didn't immediately respond with 'yes'.

"How so?"

"That's none of your business," Harry snapped.

Markovitch laughed a deep, vicious laugh. "Fair enough. I'm assuming that it's because of the 'complications' of your relationship that caused her to try to kill herself."

Harry dug his nails into the arms of the chair he sat in. "What are you trying to accomplish here?"

"We need to put these things on record. Attempted suicide goes down in the books, and any type of motive is of our...best interest."

"_Our_ meaning Death Eaters?" Harry felt the anger rising within him.

"How dare you!" she gasped. "I would never affiliate myself with such vile people."

"Funny, you kind of seem like one," he said ferociously as his nails dug into the arms further.

This time, Markovitch seemed a bit pleased. "Believe what you'd like. What I was getting at is that motives for attempted suicide are important. We want to counsel the suicidal person --"

"Hermione is not suicidal!" he blurted out. "Just because she tried once doesn't mean that she's, like, in some kind of state --"

"By definition of the Ministry, she is suicidal," Markovitch said without a flinch. Before Harry could argue some more, she continued. "Miss Granger could've had other motivations as well, of course."

"For a Comforter, you're incredibly stupid, you know," Harry said as he roughly got to his feet. "You know exactly what Hermione's been through, yet you're _wondering_ why she tried to kill herself? Maybe if you actually seemed to care about her then she would've been better. You could've concluded all of this yourself. You didn't need me to tell you."

Markovitch tilted her head, unphased. "My job requires me to interrogate people who interact with the ones I Comfort."

"If that's the case, I'll be leaving now," Harry said as he turned on his heels. He felt extremely used; and now he would make sure that Hermione's other friends would never talk to Markovitch. If the woman would get fired for it, his flaming goal would be accomplished.

"He survived!" a voice a bit too high-pitched to belong to a male screamed the moment Harry stormed out of Markovitch's office. A small man standing in a painting – that had been placed on the wall opposite the office – had said it. Harry shrugged as he took off to the Hospital Wing.

The moment he appeared in the corridor leading to the Wing's door, Ron and Ginny ran to his side.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," Harry replied gruffly. After receiving glares from them, he continued with, "At least she was away from Hermione for that long."

"An hour," Ginny whispered.

Harry raised his right eyebrow. _An hour?_ Quickly feeling some kind of form of an adrenaline rush, Harry bolted to the door. He wanted to see Hermione and make sure that Markovitch didn't get near her. Turning quickly on his heels, he added, "Don't speak to Markovitch. She's using us to improve her job performance, and nobody wants _that_."

They nodded in unison. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but before words could be formed, Harry disappeared past the door.

Harry was surprised to see only McGonagall standing beside Hermione. She looked up at him. "She's physically okay. The Madame's work here is done for now, so I'll just leave and set up privacy curtains."

Without a second's hesitation, the professor swiftly strolled out of the Hospital Wing, her wand waving behind her and closing the curtains around Hermione and Harry.

He was finally able to really concentrate on Hermione's appearance. His green eyes roamed her facial features; she was tragically beautiful. Her embarrassed eyes were the familiar warm brown color that he had grown to adore. Her red cheeks were stained with previous tears and her nose wrinkled now and then. Hermione's hair was messier than usual, but that wasn't anyone's concern. Her small, thin hands shook against the bedsheets underneath them. The lips that he had kissed so many times trembled from the nervous movement of her chin.

"Why did you do it?" Harry asked plainly, taking one shaking hand into his own.

She shivered from his touch and cleared her throat. "I swear, I didn't _fully_ try to – try to – kill myself. I swear, you have to believe me!" she said in a panicky tone.

"Shh, shh, Hermione, okay, just explain to me what happened," Harry said, trying to sound as calm as possible.

Hermione seemed to relax a bit as she settled her shoulders more comfortably into her pillow. "I always venture off to the bathroom when I'm upset because nobody would bother to look for me there. There was this piece of glass on the floor..."

Harry squeezed her hand and she continued. "I didn't mean for it to hit a _fatal artery_. Just, at that moment, I was crying and thinking about my parents and what the Death Eaters did to them, and what they did to me, and how was I going to recover from that? How was I going to be healed? And then breaking up with you...It was my fault, I know, but I figured that it wouldn't last long anyways and I could've spared from heartbreak. But it just made it worse. I wanted to fix things, but I – I just felt _so_ helpless and...and I was only trying it out, I swear! I didn't want to _actually_ end it all. I just wanted to see if physical pain would relieve the emotional pain."

Hermione was in tears. With her free hand she wiped her beautiful eyes.

"I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry..." she repeated as she sobbed.

Harry never wanted to see her like this again. There had to be some way he could help her, heal her from this pain. He could fix this. He could restore their romantic relationship and prove to her that he cared about her. Loved her.

"Hermione, it's not your fault that those bastards hurt you and your parents, so it's most definitely not your fault for being in pain afterwards. When you broke up with me --" the words struck even him "-- you weren't thinking straight. I could see how you'd think it wouldn't work, but the experience in the relationship is what matters. Look at me."

She blinked quickly and returned her watery eyes to his gaze. He squeezed her hands even tighter. "I need you and I can't imagine continuing my life from here without you being at my side. You don't even know how much I care about you. I've always thought of you as just a friend until I realized how much we both need each other. Hermione Granger, you can't even begin to understand how much I love you."

–

Hermione cried harder than ever, but this time they were tears of joy. Harry just told her the most heartfelt words that she'd ever heard him speak. He _loved_ her. There was a sensation in her heart that, for once, wasn't one of breaking but a rapid beating from happiness. It increased when Harry leaned down to kiss her.

It was proof that she was beginning to be healed.

* * *

**Author's Note:** If you're thinking this is the end of the story, it sure as hell is not! I love this story too much to end it now; and some ends need to be tied. That Markovitch exchange before might've seemed completely pointless but you'll see how that will make sense later. Hopefully. Thanks for reading :)


	14. Love of a Mom

Hello my lovely dolls :) I'm sorry for getting this out so late. I intended on staying on a weekly updating pace, but obviously that didn't work out. If I didn't reply to your review from the last chapter, I'm sorry. I didn't get to everyone because I have Vista. I think I don't need to add anything else to that. I do read all the reviews though, and hopefully I can reply to all of them this time if Vista isn't such a spaz. I hope that you're all well and enjoyed the holidays. Happy 2009! Let's hope this year is better than 2008. God bless.

Author's Note:

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter because I'm not J.K. Rowling. Seriously, this shitty chapter? You've gotta be kidding me. There's no way I'm J.K. Rowling.

* * *

Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

_Chapter Fourteen: Love of a Mom_

"Well, I see _you're_ better," Markovitch snapped.

Hermione immediately pulled her lips away from Harry's, her placed her thin hands on his chest and shoved him away.

"Markovitch, what the – what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, biting her bottom lip. Harry's knuckles turned white.

"It's been over a week since the incident, and I need to check up on my patient, of course, but I see that you're...busy." Markovitch's dark eyes bored into her skin. "I have to say, Potter," she continued, glaring at Harry now, "you're pretty smooth for a boy who grew up with no love."

"_Since_ I'm obviously busy, you should see your way out of the Hospital wing," Hermione said harshly, raising one eyebrow.

"Do me a favor," the Comforter said to Harry as she slowly took steps backwards, "make sure she doesn't go off trying to kill herself again. I have enough paperwork as it is."

Harry began to stand up from his seated position on the side of her hospital bed, but Hermione swiftly shoved her arm in his path. As Markovitch walked out, laughing, Harry held her arm tightly in order restrain himself from running towards the evil woman.

"Ouch, Harry..." Hermione said, nearly whispering.

He suddenly realized it was the arm whose vein had been cut. "Oh, sorry, love." Harry leaned down towards her and kissed her forehead, holding his lips there for longer amount of time than usual. "I didn't mean to."

"It's fine," she said with a small giggle. She pulling his face down lower so that she could kiss him full on the lips.

"Hermione, I..."

"Ron! What the hell?" Harry exclaimed, "Have you ever heard of knocking first?"

Ron shrugged. "This is a public place."

"Why does everyone interrupt us?" Hermione complained as she leaned back and rested her head on the pillow. She scooted over, giving Harry room to sit back down, and held his hand tightly. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to check up on you."

"I'm just fine," she replied, not even looking at him.

"Look, I know you're mad at me, Hermione, but I say we start over, eh?"

" No, Ronald, we can't _start over_. You knew I was – still am – in an unstable condition! You shouldn't have reacted like that before. I need you to apalogize for being a rotten son of a --"

"Hey, now, let's not get too violent," Harry intervened. "Hermione, Ron's felt guilty for what he did."

Hermione gave him a look of utter surprise. "Harry James Potter, I cannot believe you're actually defending this twat! What did he do, say that he's _really really sorry_? Did he give you the innocent puppy eyes, too?"

"No, Hermione, he didn't say anything to me about this. He was too scared to. But he wrote a letter to Mrs. Weasley one night, and he was too tired to send it, so it left it on his nightstand. And I sort of...read it..."

"You know about this?" Hermione turned to Ron.

"Well, he told me the night before this incident happened. I almost slapped him for reading my mail. I believe that would be a felony in the States."

Hermione bit her lip and folded her arms gently across her chest, being careful to not touch the scar on her left arm. "Fine, continue."

"He really was sorry, love, I swear. Just trust me. He wished he had handled the situation more maturely. If he did, you wouldn't have hurt yourself," Harry said in the gentlest voice that he could muster.

Hermione flinched at the words _hurt yourself_. "I'm sorry --"

Every time anyone mentioned that incident to Hermione, she'd turn to him and apalogize. "Don't," was all he said as he squeezed her hand.

She nodded slowly, then said, "If he wrote to Mrs. Weasley, does that mean she's coming over here?" Her innocent expression changed to one of nervousness.

"Well, obviously," Ron said matter-of-factly. "Do you really expect my mum to hear about something like that and not check up on you?"

"I don't want her to act like my mum," Hermione defended. "I love Mrs. Weasley dearly, but she could never replace her."

"She's not your mum, of course she's not," Harry said. "She just cares about you and wants to be sure that you're alright."

"I --" she began, glancing anxiously at the two. "Fine."

----------

"Hermione, dear, you look much better than I imagined you'd look!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as she rushed into the Hospital wing the next day. Her robes were huge on her, proving that she was loosing even more weight. "Well, I mean, er, please don't think I'd ever think you'd look terrible."

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione replied with a smile.

Harry was proud of himself for talking Hermione into accepting Mrs. Weasley's visit.

"She's very busy, I'm sure she can't stay for long," he had told her. "And it's important that you know how much people care about you."

"Oooh!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed suddenly, plunging her hand into her bag. "I made you some food. You're getting so thin, darling, we need some meat on those bones." And with a genial wink, the woman handed Hermione bowl of what Harry could only familiarize as chips.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, her cheeks turning pink. She ate the chips slowly and very consciously, glancing from Harry to Mrs. Weasley, then back to Harry.

"So," the aging witch said, pushing a few red hairs behind her ear and blinking quickly. "How've you been?"

Hermione shrugged. "Better. Harry's been taking great care of me." She looked up at him with a smile.

"I'm sure he has," Ron's mother said with a smile bigger than Hermione's. "Such a dear, isn't he?"

Hermione nodded. Harry felt really awkward, the two looking at him with big smiles and admiring him.

"Well," Hermione said, seeming to sense his awkwardness, "the Madame has been taking care of me, too, of course. I barely feel anything now."

Mrs. Weasley flinched as Hermione pointed to her left arm. "Oh, do you?"

"Listen, Mrs. Weasley," Harry interrupted, "Hermione's not suicidal." He wanted to jump to the subject they'd been avoiding to prevent anymore awkwardness.

"I know that," she said, composing herself.

"No, really, she didn't mean to hit a major artery. She was unstable. Anyone in her condition would've experimented like that. She never meant to almost _kill_ herself." Harry said this all quickly, not wanting to linger on the words.

Mrs. Weasley raised her eyebrows, keeping her mouth shut for a minute or so. She rocked back and forth, absorbing what he had just told her. Finally, she nodded. "Of course." Then she walked to Hermione's other side and leaned down. "I don't think any less of you, dear. I – and Harry and the other Weasleys, of course – we're here for you."

Mrs. Weasley said the words that only a mother would, the words that Hermione needed to hear. Hermione nodded as tears ran down her pink cheeks.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm sorry for the shortness of this, but I felt the need to upload _something, _and I'm sorry for this being total shit. I added Mrs. Weasley into the story because ever since she screamed "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" in DH, I've become a fan.


	15. Sight of Normality

**Author's Note:** Hello my darlings. I'm really sorry for updating this over two months late :( But I'm making it up to you. I'm uploading a new story really soon. Yes, it is going to be HHr, as always. But anyways, yes, please keep an eye out for that :) I apalogize if this chapter is suckish. Again, sorry for updating late. I added some happiness to this chapter. Please enjoy and not kill me :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. And this chapter is really short and people are going to come after me with pitchforks.

* * *

**Tears of a Mourning Bookworm**

_Chapter Fifteen: Sight of Normality_

"I bet people are beginning to talk about this, if they haven't started already."

"Everyone has nothing better to talk about than our amazing lives," Ron replied to Hermione.

Hermione rolled her eyes, although Harry spotted a small smile on her lips.

"Hey, can you pass me a cookie?" Hermione asked him. He nodded, handing her one of the many snacks Mrs. Weasley had brought with her a few days before. "These are amazing."

"Aunt Petunia made the worst chocolate chip cookies," Harry noted.

"She fed you cookies?" Hermione asked, taking a bite of her own.

"I stole some leftovers," he said with a wink. She giggled.

Hermione had gotten out of the Hospital Wing the day before.

"_Are you sure you want to get out of here? Madam Pomfrey offered that you could stay a few more days if you're uncomfortable with this," Harry told her._

"_It's fine, I'll be fine," Hermione assured him as he helped her get to her feet. _

_She nearly tripped on her first step. His left arm wrapped around her tiny waist, the other reaching out a hand. Step by step, they managed to walk out of the Wing. _

_After almost tripping again, Hermione explained, "My legs are just...numb. I'm not used to walking around, really."_

"_I can carry you if you want?" Harry offered._

"_Don't be silly, I'll be alright." However, he spotted her cheeks becoming pink. "I can walk, Harry." She kissed him on the cheek._

_By the time they were in the corridor leading to the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was walking perfectly on her own; although that didn't stop Harry from holding her hand. _

"_Just promise me something," Hermione said, stopping._

_Harry turned to face her. "Alright..."_

"_Promise me that," she paused, "that we can return to our normal lives as much as possible. I'm healing, I'll be okay, I just need to go back to the way things used to be. I need to put the terrible things behind me."_

_Immediately, he replied, "Of course, love. Although, does 'the way things used to be' mean that we're not --" _

"_Oh, no! No, no, that's not what I meant," Hermione said quickly and firmly. "No, that's just the exception. We're the exception." _

_Hermione stood on her toes to kiss him full on the lips._

So now, they were back the normal. Or, they were trying, at least. Things wouldn't be exactly the same, since Harry and Hermione were a couple, and Markovitch was still trying to make as many appointments as possible, and people were talking about Hermione and spreading rumors, and she would always have emotional scars. But Harry promised her that they'd return to normal, and he could never break a promise, especially to the girl he loved.

"Hermione?" a quiet voice from the outside of one of the dormitories asked.

"Come down here, Ginny," Hermione said invitingly, not even looking up.

The speed that her footsteps went down the stairs was surprisingly fast; Harry was amazed that she didn't trip over her own feet.

"So, you're, like, okay now? Everything's okay?" Ginny asked as she sat next to Ron; opposite of Harry and Hermione.

"You could say that," Hermione said.

Ginny seemed to be oblivious to the lack of confidence in Hermione's voice. "Oh, that's good. Y'know, lots of people have been talking about this. Some think that Myrtle got you, some think that Death Eaters were in the school and tried to --"

"Okay, sunshine," Ron said abruptly.

Ginny shifted in her seat. "Just preparing her for how people might react to her tomorrow." She lifted her hands in fake surrender.

Hermione was silent.

"Any other news? Did anyone kill Malfoy yet?" Harry asked, dodging the subject of gossip about Hermione.

"Unfortunately, the ferret's still alive. And people are just living in fear, as usual. The Ministry is being a twat --"

"Nothing new. Got it," Ron interrupted.

Harry wanted to hex Ginny for bringing this abundance of reality right to Hermione, who was still recovering. He reached for her hand and stroked the top of it with his thumb absently.

"So," Hermione said after clearing her throat, "I think I should start studying, the teachers will be furious if I'm too far behind..."

"_Finally_," Harry said. "I knew you couldn't go for that long without mentioning the word 'studying'."

"Oh, shut up." Hermione playfully punched him in the arm.

"Hey, Gin, I need your help with something," Ron said, standing up.

"Alright..."

"Outside."

"Ron, what the --"

Ron grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the common room. On his way out, Ron nodded to Harry, and he immediately understood.

"I think Ron's finally getting used to us," Harry said, smiling, after his friend had gotten out of their way.

"He left so we could study?" Hermione asked. She furrowed her eyebrows.

Harry shook his head and kissed her cheek. "No studying right now. Let's take a walk."

Hermione's right palm met her forehead. "Harry, I really do have to study though --"

"So it's a date, then?" he said, ignoring her and lifting her to her feet.

"Harry James Potter, you let me down right now!" she demanded. Although the severity of her voice wasn't being taken seriously whatsoever; she began laughing.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Harry asked as he carried her out of the portrait hole. Her body, in his arms, felt so fragile to him.

"I'm going to hurt _you_ if you don't let me down," Hermione said, lacking seriousness, giggling. He raised his eyebrows at her. "No, you're not hurting me."

After much false debating, Harry was forced to let Hermione down when they reached the Hogwarts grounds. The fresh air rushed to them both immediately, the wind wrapping around them and whipping their hair. The sun was still out, but barely; the gentle rays soared through the air, dodging the trunks and canopies of the trees that surrounded the perimeter.

"It's nice to be back here," Hermione commented.

Harry looked over at her. Her eyes were closed and her lips formed a genuine smile. It was nice to see her in a good mood, enjoying herself. He held her hand, she returned the pressure, and they began to walk. For the first minute or two, they were quiet.

"Remember when you told me you love me?" Hermione said, the tone of her voice higher than usual.

"Yes." He didn't even need to think about his response.

"Did you – did you mean it?" She stopped walking and faced him. He did the same immediately after her.

Harry was surprised that she was even asking him this. "Of course I meant it, Hermione." He leaned down to kiss her, but she pushed him away.

"Are you sure?" she asked. Her eyes appeared to be watering.

"I love you, Hermione Granger," he said in the most serious tone he could muster. He put his hands on her waist and kept stern eye contact with her. Harry could feel his heart rate rushing exponentially.

She beamed at him, wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest. He felt his shirt dampen. She was crying.

"Hermione, what --"

"I'm not sad, don't worry," she reassured him as she backed away and rubbed her eyes. "In fact, I'm quite the opposite. I love you too, Harry. I really really do."

He couldn't see it, but he could feel the biggest smile form on his face. She loved him too. His heart was racing even faster now. Harry leaned down towards her to kiss her, and this time, she didn't pull away. His hands rested on the small of her back, while hers reached for the sides of his face.

All Harry wanted was to stay like this forever, him and Hermione in the grounds, kissing and ignoring the rest of the world and healing and loving.

A few minutes later, they finally pulled away from each other and continued walking. Hermione leaned on his shoulder.

"Tomorrow's gonna be tough," she said, exhaling deeply.

"We have every class together," he reminded her. "I'll be with you the whole time, it's going to be okay. And I'm sure you'll be so focused on catching up with classes that nobody will bother you."

"I guess. But...but what about Snape?" Hermione bit her lip.

"I'll kick his arse if he bothers you."

"That's frowned upon by the school rules," she commented.

"Everything's going to be alright," Harry told her as he turned and kissed her forehead. "When we returned to Hogwarts after Christmas break, I was there for you, remember?"

"Yes," Hermione said, nodding. "I do."

"This won't be any different, I promise," Harry told her, squeezing her hand.

"Thank you."

"Any time, love."

The two ended up at the edge of the lake.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? I mean, I never really appreciated it," Hermione said. "After all, I was stuck down there two years ago. I haven't been too fond of it ever since. But I forgive it."

Harry chuckled. "I think it's at peace now." He sat down, and Hermione quickly followed. She continued to lean on his shoulder.

"Thanks for everything, Harry," Hermione said after five minutes of complete silence between them.

"No problem," was his automatic response.

"I mean it. You've always been here for me, I really appreciate it. I don't think I'd be able to be here, to laugh and smile and joke around if it wasn't for you." She kissed his neck. "Thank you...so much."

Harry placed his left arm around her small shoulders. "My pleasure."

And they sat there, together, enjoying each other's company and finally being able to return to normal, the bookworm's tears finally ones of joy.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yous would kill me if that was the ending. But please let me know what you think. Should that be the ending? Or would it just be cruel to leave you hanging for two months and be like "oh wait just kidding, I'm ending it". I might have some ends to tie in this story, my decision is on the borderline. Anyways, it's past 10pm, I'm exhausted, I apalogize that this chapter was suckish and short. Now I'm off to upload my new story. Hinthint.


	16. The Epilogue

**Author's Note:** So here we go. This is the epilogue. I'm sorry, but all stories have endings. Unless the author abandons the story, but that's irrelevant right now. I tried to incorporate a few little memories in here to answer a few questions, like what happened to Markovitch – I knew yous would never let that go xD And I do realize that this is very short. I wanted it to be a short and sweet ending. This is right after the battle. Literally right after it, like Harry just killed Voldemort a few hours ago. Anyways, without further ado, I present the epilogue.

* * *

Tears of a Mourning Bookworm

_The Epilogue_

"Ron, Luna, do you two mind if we wonder off for a little while? We'll be back as soon as we can," Harry told the couple.

Luna smiled brightly. "Of course, Harry."

"And you have no idea where we are," Hermione instructed.

"Haven't a clue where those lovebirds went," Ron said, causing her to blush.

Harry and Hermione nodded and thanked them, and rushed off to somewhere where nobody could find them. Harry wasn't even sure where they were going exactly, although it did look vaguely familiar. In fact, he noticed now, it was the same corridor where Markovitch had stopped them and demanded an extra appointment with Hermione. He smiled as he thought back to when the terrible Comforter had gotten fired; just a month after Hermione had hit a major artery – they hadn't talked about that incident itself since then – the Ministry was forced to remove her from her position. Harry wasn't sure how severely Dumbledore had threatened them, but it was certainly effective.

"I thought I'd never be able to escape," Harry whispered, holding a hand smaller than his own.

Hermione giggled and kissed his cheek. "We only have a small amount of time before people notice you're missing."

"But can't people understand that I want to spend time with the most beautiful girl in the world?" This earned him another kiss. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist as she rested her head on his broad shoulder.

"I really wouldn't mind a nice, comfortable bed right now," Hermione muttered sleepily, moments later. "And some hot chocolate."

"What about me?"

She paused, biting her lip and giving him that playful look he hadn't seen since they had began searching for horcruxes. Harry had missed it. All that had been on their minds was the determination to defeat Voldemort. He was responsible for the Potters' and Grangers' deaths, for Hermione being tortured, for Harry almost dying several times, and then actually dying for a few minutes several hours ago. They were both personally affected by him and were fueled with revenge.

The summer before they were supposed to enter their seventh year, Harry sensed what he had to do in order to finally finish off the evil man that had been after him for years. When he had told Hermione what he was going to do, she immediately wanted to be by his side. He recommended she shouldn't go along; he wanted to keep her safe. But it was no use. She was going with him, no matter what.

"You're too busy saving the world, Mr. Potter."

"No, I'm not."

Hermione looked up at him, her expression of playfulness still upon her pretty face. "Okay, for now you're not."

They were silent for several minutes in their embrace. "You haven't talked about it at all, and it's been hours," Harry said, breaking the silence.

"What's there to say?" Her expression faded into one of seriousness.

He wasn't sure how to answer this, so he remained quiet and continued to hold her in his arms. "Thank God, I guess, that it's all over."

"Mmm." She looked up at him and smiled. "You know, you're still just Harry to me, no many how many bastards you kill."

The last time Harry was this happy was when, over a year over, he kissed Hermione Granger on the lips in the common room. Of course he was happy every moment he spent with her, but times like these, where triumph was nearly bouncing off their auras, were priceless.

Hermione stood on her toes and kissed him unexpectedly. He happily kissed back and cupped her face in his hands. She smiled against his lips and then broke away. "I love you."

The last time she said those three words to him was when they merely escaped Bathilda Bagshot's home after being hunted down by Nagini.

"_I'm so sorry," she mumbled as she held out his broken wand. "Harry, I'm so sorry, here, have my wand --"_

_Surprisingly, he wasn't angry. She looked like she was going to cry. "Don't worry about it. I'm not taking your wand, you need to protect yourself."_

_He took her into his embrace. "It's fine, we're fine."_

"_I was so scared," she whispered. "I thought we weren't – you weren't – getting out of there alive..."_

"_Shh," he whispered back. "We're safe now."_

"_I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you --"_

"_Hermione --"_

_She began crying into his shoulder. "I love you."_

"I love you too, Hermione," he told her now. Harry ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead.

"It really is over, isn't it?" she asked in near disbelief. Realization seemed to be taking over her, and tears met the edges of her eyes. "He's dead." And then she cried. Tears of joy rolled out of her chestnut eyes like waterfalls, and her smile was unbelievably huge. Harry returned the smile. The Death Eaters had fled in hiding or were captured. He held her tighter, not ever wanting to return to the Great Hall.

Nobody could hurt her anymore.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well kids, that's it. Aaaaah I can't believe it's over. But thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story. I really appreciate it. I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it :)


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